Mornings and Love
by Aria Rayn
Summary: SJ, some ponderings. Sam POV main, some Jack POV, & some Hammond POV. Angst, shippiness, cuddling, arguments, well, read & you'll see..
1. Chapter 1

Mornings and Love, Part 1

When Sam first saw the Colonel there, on the bed, she had to work hard to hide the smile. _So the Colonel's a cuddler? _she thought. _Who'da thought it?_

They drew nearer, and as they attempted several times to wake him, she sighed. _He's so cute with his hair all messed up,_ she thought admiringly.

Something jolted her. _Wait a minute,_ she thought. NO ONE looked "cute" first thing in the morning. Scrunched-up face with a bad expression, messed-up hair, and bad breath were NOT cute.

Then something in her distant memory seeped through. She remembered, not too long before her mother's accident, she'd had a bad day because a boy had rejected her.

That night, her mother and she had wrapped up in blankets, drank cocoa, and watched some sappy soap opera. And her mother had said to her: "These are some signs to look for:

1) If you can't go one day without thinking of him tenderly, even when you're fighting –

2) If you want to squeeze him until his head shoots off from the pressure when you two finally make up –

3)And if you think he looks cute first thing in the morning – 'cos we BOTH know NO ONE looks cute first thing in the morning – then

_It's love._

Sam's eyes went WIDE. _Oh…CRAP,_ she thought, shuddering inside. All her heart could think about was how GOOD it was just to SEE him, safe, cuddling.

Her mind wandered back to the morning after her second or third date with Pete. He'd been such an ass then, giving her the third degree then storming out. She'd – stupidly, she realized now – forgiven him, but they had frequent bouts over her work, even now. He drove her crazy! A large part of her never wanted to see him again. There when sign #1. She'd still felt uneasy and hurt even when he gave her his puppy dog eyes and flowers to make up for the previous argument.

But there was ONE thing she was POSITIVE would never happen:

Pete Shanahan would

**NEVER**

look good first thing in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

The Colonel awoke with a snort. He stared groggily at them for a moment, and mumbled, "What're you guys doing in my bedroom?"

Sam explained the situation shortly, and much to her irritation, her heart wouldn't stop drooling over him. She was drastically failing to avoid thoughts such as, "God I was so worried," or, "GOD he looks GOOD," or, "Hell, that was the biggest understatement of the YEAR! This man is completely, 110 HOT!"

Her heart went briefly to those three signs.

1)Hell yes she still thought about him affectionately when they didn't see "eye to eye". The man was seriously addictive!

2)HELL YES she wanted to squeeze him 'til his head blew off whenever she managed to bring him home or find him (as was becoming a popular game for her).

3)_**HELL YES YES YES**_ he looked good first thing in the morning!

_Ooooh, CRAP._

Sam sighed. _Sammie, girl,_ _you're dead meat, _her conscience informed her.

SIGH

What else was new?


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Okay, you guys sparked my muse. Here's the third part; jury's still out on #4 but with any encouragement ;) coughcoughreviewscoughcough

Again, many thanks & enjoy!

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Sam sighed as she sank into the cushions. She couldn't stand much more of this. Colonel disappearing, colonel dying, colonel being tortured, colonel turning into a teenager (or, rather, being cloned, as they discovered). Every time something new happened, her heart was put on stand-by and started to freeze with terror. Then he managed to wriggle out of harm's way and she hit the floor like a sack of flour, relief wracking her body and mind.

"I can't believe Pete's coming over tonight," she muttered as she poured herself another glass of diet soda. Her taste buds sighed and purred as the deliciously cold liquid washed over them.

It suddenly occurred to her that that wasn't exactly a natural reaction one usually had when one's boyfriend was scheduled to come over.

_Oh boy, here I go again,_ Sam groaned inwardly.

Mom's Rules On Relationships, Rule No. 453: If seeing him doesn't make you happy, you have a right to get out of it.

Mom's Rules On Relationships, Rule No. 454: …But if he's prone to "puppy-dog eyes" and "pretty please?" tones, break his heart gently. This rule does not apply if said boyfriend is dense and stubborn.

Sam had always known she had feelings for the colonel, but never realized quite how strong they were. And it felt right saying it, even in her mind:

_I'm in love with Colonel Jack O'Neill._

This time her heart purred. Yes, that definitely felt right, and GOOD.

_I love him._

_I love him!_

_I'M FLIPPIN' HEAD OVER HEEL IN LOVE WITH HIM!_

"Slow down, Sammie," she muttered to herself. "Two obvious problems: 1) you're _technically_ still with Pete, so all other men are hands-off. 2) there's also the little thing called REGULATIONS, oh, yeah, and the fact he's your CO!"

A few minutes later, a car drove up and honked the horn a few times. Sam cringed, a shot of irritation going through her. She HATED it when people just honked the horn, sometimes a dozen times before a person came out of the house. It was rude and it disturbed not only her but her neighbors.

Usually she ignored it, but not this time. Oh, no, no, no! Not this time. She was tired of it and would not stand for it. She'd warned him once, but this was it!

A few more impatient honks came from outside before her phone rang. It was Mrs. Shelby from next door.

"Dear, can you go out so he'll stop? He woke up my baby with that infernal racket!"

Sam sighed and bit her lip. "Alright, Mrs. Shelby. I'm sorry."

She hung up and irritably grabbed her jacket. "Great, just great," she grumbled as she walked out the door, checking herself twice to make sure she didn't slam the door behind her like she _so, so wanted to._

"Pete, what's going on?" she asked, her conscience demanding that her voice be neutral and not snippy. "You're disturbing the neighbors."

Pete frowned. "Your neighbors should get lives," he informed her.

_Note to self: do not kill boyfriend._

"You woke Mrs. Shelby's baby."

Her "boyfriend" blinked, probably not knowing what to say.

"Jamie's a horrible sleeper. She'll be up all night getting him to go back to sleep."

"Who?"

"Jamie's her baby."

"Oh, Mrs. Sherbet's baby, right."

"_Shelby,_" Sam corrected while her conscience snipped at her, saying, _Why are you correcting him? Stop wasting time! Stop procrastinating! If you're going to break up with the idiot, do it and get it over with, and maybe you'll get some decent sleep tonight._

"Right, of course, babe. Come on, you'll love what I have planned tonight!" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and all Sam could think was, _He's waggling them wrong. Colonel O'Neill does it better._

"Uh, Pete? …Why don't you come inside. I want to talk to you." It wasn't a suggestion, it wasn't a "please, pretty please?". Her mind was made up.

Pete frowned again and turned off the engine. "Well," he drawled with a smirk as he got out of the car, "we can do it here, too, if that's what you want."

_No, it's not, you idiot,_ she thought with a stab of viciousness as she allowed him into her home for what would be the last time.

"Have a seat," she said, waving towards the couch absentmindedly. "Want something to drink?"

"Wine sounds good," he said, looking funnily at the diet coke liter bottle on the table, and the empty glass next to it.

"Something non-alcoholic?" she asked. He stared at her. She shrugged. "I'm out of alcoholic beverages," she lied.

Turns out she was a pretty good liar. He sat back smugly. "Got any _real_ soda?" he said, nodding at the diet soda.

"No. But I have lemonade, milk – er, scratch the milk," she said, scowling at the only carton's expiration date. "Okay, I have lemonade and juice."

"I'll have water," he said, the distaste showing bitterly in his voice.

"Yes, your majesty," she muttered as she brought a glass to the sink.

When everything was settled, she sat down on the couch, a good dozen inches away from Pete. It was a good distance for the break-up talk, she felt. Not cuddly, not "I want to get in your pants" close, and not "ohmygod don't you EVER shower!" distant.

But clearly Pete had other things on his mind. He squashed those dozen inches and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, rubbing her thigh. Before, she would have responded eagerly, and allowed him to play with her, but tonight her mind was 100 gutter-free.

"Pete," she said firmly, making new distance between them, this time a little farther away. Clearly this man wanted only the one thing she definitely didn't want, at least, not with him, she noted, her mind briefly picturing Jack O'Neill dreamily. Clearing her throat, she said, "I was serious when I said I wanted to talk."

"Uh, sure babe," he said, looking very irritated that he wasn't getting any.

_Tough luck, Shanahan, _she thought bitterly.

"Look, I don't think this is going to work out –"

"What?" he said, sounding and looking alarmed. "Why? We're great together!"

_Then why do I always feel like crap when I'm with you?_ she wondered. _Why am I always dreading dates with you? Why do I always feel too pressured, and why do I always have to defend my job and my decisions and choices when I'm with you!_

Finally, Sam settled for, "Because, I…I just don't feel the same."

"The same? …About me!"

"N – yes. Yes. I'm sorry."

And she was. He didn't deserve this, but, quite frankly, she didn't either. "I think it'll be best for the both of us," she said gently.

"How do you figure that?" he asked, the whimpering tone seeping into his voice.

"I, I just…" – God, what could she say to that?

"I love you!"

Her eyes flew up to his.

"No, no you don't," she said with quiet confidence. "I know you don't." _Because if you did, you wouldn't sound so accusatory when you say it._

"But I do! I –"

_DING DONG_.

Pete stopped short and narrowed his eyes at me. "You didn't order a pizza, did you?" he asked. Sam couldn't quite decipher the tone of the voice.

She shook her head and went to open the door. To her surprise, there was pizza on the other side, but it wasn't the usual delivery boy.

In his place was a very handsome Air Force colonel, grey hair, patented smirk and all. "Hey, Carter. I know it's late, but me 'n the boys thought we could have a team night. Teal'c and Daniel are coming; they're just at the video store. I hope Daniel makes sure they get something _other_ than Star Wars."

His quirky and light-hearted voice calmed her immeasurably, and she felt a grin poking at the corner of her lips. Wow, it felt like centuries since she'd last smiled.

_At least he can ring a doorbell,_ she thought approvingly. It was the smallest things like that that made her love him.

Wow. That just never got old. Love him love him love him love him –

"That's it, isn't it!"

Pete's voice shocked her back into reality. She turned, almost too shocked to be irritated that he interrupted her Jack-fantasy. Almost.

"What?" she demanded.

Pete stood and stomped over to them, hands fisted. His body language just screamed "pissed!"

"It's been him all along, hasn't it! You've been having an affair with that old fart! You cheating slut!"

Before she could decide whether or not it was okay to burst out laughing at the ridiculous comment, he sneered, "I guess we all know how you got to the rank of major so quickly, now don't we?"

This shocked her beyond reason. She stood there numbly, fingers shaking. Suddenly, that shock turned to rage. Hate burned in her body, from her thumping heart to her fingers, and it poked and stabbed, quite literally, painfully.

Before she realized it, she'd grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. Sam didn't even notice it when one of her favorite pictures fell and shattered because of it.

It wasn't hard to hold him there. She stopped every evasive maneuver he tried without thinking about it. She stared hard and cold into his eyes, which were now very wide with fear.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and deadly. "I earned _every damn rank_. I _earned_ the rank of cadet by working my ass off in high school to get into the Academy. I _earned_ the rank of second lieutenant by going through four years at the Academy, which was almost, _almost_ as hard as getting in. I _earned_ the rank of first lieutenant when I flew in the Gulf. I _earned_ the rank of captain after two years of tedious study in D.C. I _earned_ this rank by being a part of the team that _saved the damned unthankful planet_, and do you have any idea how OLD that is getting!"

By this time, Sam was shouting. "So you think I've been sleeping my way up the chain of command? Think again, you selfish moron! You just try my life on for size, be my guest! It's been no cakewalk, today least of all! And I'm _tired_ of it! I'm tired of your constant interrogations and petty jabs at how I don't 'trust you'. Well guess what, Shanahan? Any chance of saving _US_ is GONE! Get the hell out of my house and my pitiful life!"

By this point she was in tears. Too deflated to maim him like she'd wanted to, she clutched his shirt and banged him into the wall one last time before she let go. Sadly, she walked down the hall and into her room, closed the door, and locked it.

Sinking onto her bed, she buried her face in her pillows. They were brand new – very fluffy and absolutely heavenly to sleep on. Now tears stained them, though she couldn't see the streaks because she hadn't turned on the light.

A few moments later, Sam's conscience started badgering her. _Geez, that's just great, Carter! So much for strong, independent woman! What would Colonel O'Neill say if –_

Sam shot up into a sitting position. _Oh. My. God._ Colonel O'Neill!

A soft knock came from the door. "Carter?"

Oh, his voice was soft and gentle and all she wanted to do was rush over, swing open the door, and bury herself in his arms.

But no. She couldn't do that.

The handle jiggled, and soon the door cracked open.

_I knew I'd regret teaching him how to pick locks._

Sam heard him cross the room, and the bed shifted as he sat on the side of it, closer to her head than her knees.

Next she knew, warm, strong arms were tying her into his embrace. Stiffly at first, she relaxed into him. Her eyes were dry and sore from tears, and she had none left to shed, but her body was still shivering with emotion. He just held her tightly, silently; her rock, like always.

She shifted so she could fit into him better, but he took her legs and swung them over his lap, and pulled her so close she was on his lap. She pressed her forehead against the base of his neck and the shivering stopped. Still he held her, not letting go.

Her chest felt about to burst with gratitude and trust. Her anger and sadness melted away, not because it didn't hurt, but because it didn't matter anymore. She was here, in the arms of the man she truly loved.

Sam sighed happily as the roaming bits of her heart flew back to her and locked into place.

"I love you," she whispered against his flesh.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the promised part four, ladies and gents! Remember, the more you feed the author, the more she writes, so click that lil' review button for a 4-second message and I'll be a happy lady!

(PS: what do you all say to some more Pete whumping:P)

Suddenly the little nest she'd made in him was ripped apart. She now sat on the bed, not his lap, though his hands still gripped her arms firmly but gently. Gingerly, and with a sigh, he peeled his hands off her, too. "I'm not Pete," he said, like he was confessing to some minor crime.

Huh? "I know," she replied. She let her next sentence go unsaid: _Why'd you let go?_

"W – huh?" he said, startled. They sat in silence for a few more moments before he said softly, "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" she asked, her conscience puking at the desperate tone in her voice. She scooted closer to him. "I…I was only seeing Pete because…because I didn't think I could ever have who I really wanted."

Silence reigned again, and she wished she could see his face, his expressions. So Sam leaned over to her nightstand and tugged on the chain of her lamp. The light snapped on and Colonel O'Neill immediately shielded his eyes. "Crap!" he hissed.

Sam blinked a couple of times to get used to the light. "Sorry," she said.

He moved his hand from his eyes and blinked rapidly until he too could see. But they wandered about her room, settling on some distant object and never once meeting hers.

She swallowed over a lump in her throat. "W-well, I guess that puts me in my place," she said a little shakily. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

She turned her head and didn't see him look at her bewilderedly. "Carter – " he began.

"Sir," she interrupted, "please leave. I'd like to be alone."

"Carter –!"

"Please!" she pleaded, a dry sob racking her body. She thrust herself off the bed and away from him. God, this hurt; emotion flooded her body so hard her fingers hurt again. She turned to the wall and covered her eyes with one hand shamefully, while the other arm hugged herself.

"Sam."

Her dying heart started to beat a little, somewhat revived by the sound of her name on his lips. Sam felt it purr, and there were no objections from HER when he came to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

The hand fell from her eyes and she turned in his arms, looking into his eyes. They were warm and loving, and her heart simply melted!

Mom's Additional Hints to Knowing You're in Love:

4) When your insides turn to mush when he looks into your eyes, no matter how cliché it may seem.

He leaned in, breath warm on her lips, barely touching them before pulling back slightly to look at her, as if to ask her for permission.

_Permission? He could have done this years ago and I wouldn't have objected._

Sam leaned in a little more, brushing his lips with hers. _Yes_, she thought as his captured hers completely.

His tongue licked at her lips, seeking entrance, and she granted it. He explored every inch, every crevice of her mouth and mingled with her tongue. Sam's legs went weak and her knees knocked together. _Holy Hannah! _she wanted to shout. This kiss drove her wild!

5) When a kiss from him drives you wild, but would feel insignificant and normal from anyone else.

Purring a moan, she tugged him closer and entwined her arms around his neck. As she did so, his arms slid around her waist.

When they pulled apart, he still held her in his embrace. Both were breathing fairly heavily.

Sam suddenly felt something pressed against her, and she looked at him quizzically. He blushed – he _actually blushed!_ – and said throatily, "It's my sidearm, I swear." Sam gave a little giggle because they _both_ knew what it really was, and she was amazed he would react to her like that.

"That…that was nice," he said with a small laugh. "Pretty damn nice, actually."

Sam nodded, her eyes full of sky. "Yeah," she breathed. "Pretty damn great, if you ask me."

She snuggled into him, her forehead pressed against his neck. "Mmm…Jack," she sighed.

"Sam…" he murmured a moment later, even as he rubbed her back, "…we can't do this."

She froze for a moment, then pulled back to look at him. "What are you saying?" she asked, relieved and proud that her voice was calm and steady, and not whimpering or shaky.

"I –" he swallowed hard, "I'm saying…oh f'cryin' out loud, I don't know what I'm saying. This feels so…so right, but it's definitely against regulations."

Regulations. That was one word she'd hoped not to hear tonight, especially after that promising kiss.

"Yeah," she agreed softly.

The Colonel let go and smoothed his clothes, clearing his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, major." He didn't look at her.

Sam swallowed a shaky, lumpy gulp. "Yes sir," she whispered.

"I'll lock the door on the way out; I still have the emergency key you handed out to me, Daniel, and Teal'c."

"Yes sir."

She waited until after she heard the front door close before she walked dizzily to the bed. She didn't want him to hear her collapse on her pillows.

_I swear to god,_ she thought to herself snippily, _I will never – NEVER – cry over a man again. You hear me!_ she shouted inwardly at the mists of tears forming in her eyes. _I won't let you cry! I can't stand you flippin' tears anymore!_

She clenched her teeth and clutched a pillow in both hands, willing herself never to cry. Taking a look at her clock, she realized it was now 2300 hours, three hours to midnight. When'd that happen?

Sighing, she sank into the sheets and willed herself a dreamless sleep. But even in her subconscious she could not escape Jack O'Neill, and she had a bittersweet sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello & good morning, fellow Pete whumpers! I hope you're all buckled in, 'cos this roller coaster might get a little crazy!

Hope you like! Keep those reviews pouring in!

Ari. R.

Mornings and Love, part 5

Sam awoke to the evil alarm clock's intolerable honking at five in the morning. Sitting up with a growl, she swung her fist out to smash it off, but hesitated when an unexpected thought surfaced to mind:

_That sounds like Pete._

Suddenly, what had pushed exactly all the right buttons to tick her off, was now hilarious!

Pete! Honk honk honk!

She imagined that sneering face from the other night, but instead of those hateful words, all he could manage was, "Honk, honk, honk!"

What started out as a giggle turned into a body-wracking, heavy laughter! Sam cradled her stomach as she collapsed into a fit of laughter on the pillows.

Pete honking the Pledge of Allegiance!

Pete honking the national anthem!

Pete honking "Old McDonald Had a Farm"!

It took a good twenty minutes before her laughter finally died with a couple of giggles. Sam looked around her room appreciatively. It looked so bright and warming, like all the gods – both fake and divine – were smiling down on her. She couldn't believe it'd felt so unwelcoming, unsafe the previous night.

The previous night. Pete. No Pete. Jack. No Jack.

Sighing, her smile slipped from her face. "It's official: I'm hopeless."

Sadly, and happily, she stripped for a shower. The hot water running over her naked flesh felt so, so, _so_ good that she wished this could be one of those showers where she stayed under the waterfall of bliss until the water ran cold.

Unfortunately, according to those things called "bills", and the little thing called "job", and not to mention "save the world", this would not be one of those mornings.

Still, determined to salvage what was left of the excellent mood she awoke to, she beamed brightly and decided to eat breakfast at home for once. If anything could damage a good mood, it was not having food, and if she tried to have breakfast at the base, something was sure to demand her attention.

"Today, I don't care if it's fixing a light bulb or the naquadah reactor that Siler needs my help for. I am going to sit here and eat my breakfast at home like normal people do," Sam said decisively. Fixing a few eggs, toast, and pouring herself some orange juice, she sat at the kitchen counter and grabbed the remote for the TV. Switching it on from afar, she settled with watching a teeny, tiny view. She wanted to just be _lazy_ this morning, even if it meant she didn't walk seven yards to the couch.

Quickly changing the channel in disgust, Sam easily avoided the news channels. They absolutely drove her crazy. How could anyone honestly worry about some master thief or neighborhood punks or some celebrity's sixth divorce and seventh marriage when _she_ and just _one_ military base were working their _asses_ off to make sure the whole damned world wasn't blown to oblivion?

Today was definitely not a news-watching day. The news was both depressing and infuriating, two things she was set and determined to avoid.

Finding a Peanuts cartoon pleased her immensely! She absolutely, positively, _adored_ Snoopy! Grinning and feeling more at ease than she had in – in – in…when? – she watched the playful antics of Snoopy and Woodstock. They never ceased to amaze her. Poor Snoopy got his nose banged! Aww. Poor Woodstock got sat on! Aww. And they both get into a sizzling frenzy of yapping and tweeting, then make up and hug – AWW.

She so loved Peanuts cartoons.

Sam pulled into the SGC parking lot, whistling to the tune of Martina McBride. Country wasn't usually her cup of tea, but who _wouldn't_ get caught up in the cheerful beat of "This One's For the Girls"?

Tapping the steering wheel to the last few tunes to the snazzy song, she shut off the motor and hopped out, laptop bag in tow.

"Good morning, sergeant, how are you?" she happily asked the guards at check-in as she flashed her ID.

"Uh, good morning, Ma'am, I'm fine, thank you," the sergeant replied, surprised.

"Good. Have a good one, then!" she said as she walked down to the elevators. There was a definite spring in her step.

The elevator stopped short. The doors slid back to reveal a very preoccupied Daniel Jackson, his nose in a book and an artifact in hand. He looked up briefly as he stepped in, giving her an unceremonious, "Hey…Sam…" as his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to his translations.

Daniel's disregard of her didn't bother her in the least. "Hey Daniel," she said brightly. "Sleep well?"

"Uhh…huh? …oh, yeah. I mean, yes, I did…" his words trailed off as he got lost in his own little world of translating heaven.

Sam's grin grew even bigger. Little brother Daniel. "Hey, what'cha working on?" she said, genuinely interested.

He looked up disbelievingly, but grinned too. "Oh, it's really fascinating!" he said enthusiastically. "It's a tablet that seems to have hieroglyphics that are a cross between Mayan and Mesopotamian."

"Show me?" she inquired.

Beaming ever more brightly, Daniel pointed at the tidbits of words and sentences he'd translated, beginning in order, up to down, right to left.

"Wow, that's pretty cool, Daniel," Sam said as the elevator stopped again.

"What is?"

_Oh boy…here we go again,_ Sam thought to her conscience. In return, she received a small rush of assurance. She could do this, right?

Wrong. Jack's smile was curious, his eyes twinkling, and his hands were fiddling with each other. Like nothing had happened last night. Like it was all normal. Typical.

"Oh, Jack! I was just telling Sam about this tablet – look, it's a cross between Mayan and Mesopotamian, and –!"

"Daniel!" Jack said in a _warning_ and playful tone as he stepped in. The doors closed, trapping them. _Damn, my last chance to escape, gone._

Daniel frowned. "Well _San_ thought it was _cool_," he said irritably, shoving his glasses back up his nose and his nose back in his book.

For some unknown reason, this amused Jack O'Neill. He threw his head back and howled with laughter.

For obvious reasons, this irked both Sam and Daniel. But mostly Sam.

"Hey, she's a wonderfully open-minded person," Daniel insisted, "which is a nice change from you!"

With that, he slammed his book closed and stomped out of the elevator, which had conveniently stopped and opened for him at that precise moment. _Please, take me with you,_ her mind begged. No dice; the doors closed agonizingly slow. _Damn,_ she thought miserably. _Geez, I can't ever swear without sounding pathetic, not even in my own head!_

Jack's laughter died down…eventually. Still, he chuckled to himself, as though reliving the moment.

"So…" he said, "think he'll forgive me if I bring him coffee?"

He was looking at her, but she kept her gaze steely on the doors, knowing that the minute they opened even an inch, she was OUT of there. Sam was not going to play his game.

"He's probably trying to figure out why you found it so funny that I might actually share his interest," she said coolly. _As am I…_

Jack frowned. "Oh, c'mon Carter, it's not your…your _thing_! You spit out scientific babble and Daniel spits out rock babble."

"Artifacts," she mumbled, correcting him for Daniel since the poor archeologist couldn't do it himself.

Jack watched her for a moment. The elevator slowed to a stop as he said, "Look, Carter…_Sam_…"

A flash of anger sizzled her. "Excuse me, _sir_," she said with a snarl, still looking directly at the opening doors, "but I have work to do. I'll talk to you later." _Like next century._

Part of her felt guilty for storming off, leaving him like that, and it teamed up with the part of her that wanted desperately just to drag him into a closet. In all, her angry, sensible side was thoroughly outnumbered, but it was strong in its defense. Sam stomped to her lab, hoping she could team her sensibility with science so weakness wouldn't override her.

Soon she was blissfully as blissfully lost in her passion as Daniel was in his. Sam watched excitedly through a microscope, ticking off tidbits of information to write down a moment later.

"Wow…they look like they're…_mating_," she murmured as she watched the bacteria. She spotted two subjects, one red, one brown. They joined for a moment, then separated, and a few minutes later, the brown one grew significantly larger. Ten minutes later, two new bacteria emerged from the brown: one brown, one red.

Sam pulled away from the microscope, the skin around her eyes raw from the prolonged contact. Too interested to care, she scribbled down her observations and went back to the microscope, ignoring the complaints her eyes and skin were giving her about it.

"How can you _stand_ it? Just _standing_ there, neck bent to look through a magnifying glass to see little things that don't matter?"

Sam jumped, her flesh ripping from the microscope painfully. Grimacing, she turned to glare at him. She tore off her white, plastic gloves and said, "Sir, if all you came here for was to criticize me and my work, please leave. Now." Her arm was thrust in the general direction of the door.

This time, she made eye contact and held it. She was surprised by the sadness in his eyes.

"Sam," he whispered, "please. Let me in."

He didn't just mean the lab, though she did motion that he could enter, sighing as she did. She sat on the stool, feeling and probably looking very defeated.

"Sam…"

The lights flickered off and the door was quietly shut. It was awfully dark, and she heard him move, and the next minute, her radio was bursting with a classical symphony.

Suddenly his arms were around her, and his breath tickled her ear. She sat still, frozen, not quite willing to give in and not quite willing to let go.

"I'm sorry, Sam, so sorry."

"For which part!" she snapped, immediately kicking herself for lashing out when he was trying to be nice.

"For being an ass? For laughing at you in the elevator for liking Daniel's rocks? For leaving when I should have been there for you?" he said.

Sam exhaled deeply. "I know," she whispered, "me too."

"No." Jack spun her around in her stool to face him, even though they could barely see each other, and he cupped her face. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

As if to prove his point, he kissed her lips softly, then less hesitantly he teased them apart.

God, his kisses were intoxicating! Sam moaned into his mouth and responded feverishly, seeking entrance. He complied, then took back control, tongue happily exploring her mouth.

_Mmm…Janet would flip if I told her about this._

Janet.

The SGC's CMO.

Lab…

SGC.

On base.

REGULATIONS!

Sam squealed and pushed him away, effectively ending the kiss. "No, sir, please don't!" she begged, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Silence.

"Sir?"

Finally, he replied, "Sorry, Major. It won't happen again."

The familiar sound of fading footsteps greeted her as Jack O'Neill walked out on her again. Except, this time it was her fault.


	6. Chapter 6

le gasp! I never expected this to be so popular beams. Yes, I have been a very bad girl and I'm very mean to leave so many cliffhangers I'm dying with guilt, here. (Oooh, don't you just FEEL the sarcasm? I must be taking after Jack :P) Sorry for the long wait, folks!

Hope you enjoy :)

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Mornings and Love, part 6

It was a week later, and communication with Jack had reached rock-bottom. "Got samples, Major?" "Done?" "Good." "Movin' out, gear up."

Her responses weren't much better: "Yes sir." "Yes sir." "Yes sir." "Yes sir."

Sam sighed as she slipped on her vest. Buckles and zippers filled the empty room. The guys were about two minutes before her, and usually she would speed up a notch to catch them at the elevator, but at the speed she was going, they were easily going to get there without her. She was just too damned fed up with speed today.

The soldier in her was throwing a hissy fit at being so lazy, but Sam reasoned that they weren't due to ship out for a good fifteen minutes.

When she got into the gateroom, the Stargate had just begun spinning.

"Took you long enough, Carter," Jack said. His voice wasn't teasing, and he didn't have that "I win" smirk on his lips (and she wasn't sure if she should celebrate that or not).

"Sorry sir," she replied, quite surprised at his flat, emotionless tone.

"Make sure you get your butt here when everyone else does, Major," he snapped.

It was that irritable tone that breathed determination into her weary soul. "Yes sir," she said, her voice edgy as she tried not to be insubordinate.

"Good. Let's move out."

As they walked up the ramp, Sam made sure to stay behind Jack for some very good reasons. For one, she didn't want to piss him off further by cutting him off. Also, she wanted a good view of his ass, whether her fantasies were about kicking it down every corridor of the SGC or about…other, more intimate…things.

_Sigh._

Mama said there would be days like this.

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"Carter, what're you doing?" Jack demanded.

"Um, just getting some samples of the –"

"Did I _say_ you could?"

Sam blinked as he tore off his military-issued sunglasses. "Uh, sir –?"

"Carter, I asked you a question!"

Sam stiffened. "No, sir." God, those were only two words and it killed her to say them. What the hell was with him?

Her teammates were sporting similar thoughts through their expressions. "Uh, Jack, she always takes samples on missions," Daniel said.

"Indeed, O'Neill, she has never needed specific orders to do her duties in the past. Why does Major Carter need approval now?" Teal'c queried.

Jack's head snapped to the other half of the team. "_Be–ca-suh_ I _said_ so," he said through clenched teeth, drawling out the words.

Sam pointed out her chin, letting her expression harden to stoniness. There was no way she was going to let him know how much he was pissing her off.

_On the second hand…_ her conscience pointed out, _he did get rid of that gloomy mood of yours. You were getting started down a terrible path of depression before he dragged you back to the main road._

_By being a pain in the ass?_ Sam wondered irritably.

"Hurry up, Carter, we don't have all day," said Jack in a frustrated, pissed-off voice.

"I'm awaiting my orders to finish collect–"

"Carter! Get the damned samples, already!"

Sam pursed her lips together, and bent over to do what he'd ordered, when he interrupted her process again by growling, "Didn't hear you say it, Carter."

Sam had been in the military long enough to know what Jack's "IT" was. She snapped back up so quickly a flash of pain went through her lower back. Trying not to grimace, she replied, "YES sir, Colonel O'Neill, SIR," with a sharp salute.

Jack's glare deepened dangerously as he returned the salute, looking like it killed him to do it. Sam held eye contact for as many seconds as she dared before turning and slowly sinking to the ground to collect her samples. As her back bent, she felt that flash of pain again, and a third time when she got up.

Colonel O'Neill went with Teal'c and told her and Daniel to catch up when, and she quote, "…when Carter's finally finished doing whatever."

Oooh, how his tone got under her skin! Sadness dulled the anger only slightly when she remember his kiss, his kisses! God, they'd been so sweet, so gentle, loving. Who the hell was this man and what did he do with her Jack!

"Soo…" Daniel said pointedly, prying for details.

_Oh, yea, Mama said there'd be days like this._

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"I take it everything went well?" General Hammond asked lightly as SG-1 stepped through the 'Gate.

Murmurs of "Yes, General," and, "Yes, sir," filled the room.

"Alright," he said, frowning, probably at the sullen demeanor of the team. "Hit the showers, people, then the infirmary. Briefing at 1400 hours."

"Yes sir," Sam said, smiling gratefully. A cold shower would do good to calm her fiery anger.

"Yes sir," Jack said, stealing one last glare at Sam behind the General's back. Sam saw this, as she was probably meant to. The hurt and anger deepened. _Make that _several _cold showers,_ Sam thought.

So this was what she got for…for what? For stopping him – them, from doing something that would land both their asses in –

Oh god. That was it.

Sam's anger fumed to twice its intensity. He was being a flippin', hard-assed moron because she'd _rejected_ him? Which, by the way, she had _not_ wanted to do.

"Well, it speaks volumes for his professionalism," Sam muttered.

Daniel turned to face her quizzically. "Huh?" he asked.

Daniel's question caused a ripple effect; not only did she have to deal with him, she had to come up with an excuse for Teal'c and Jack, who too stopped to face her for an answer.

"Nothing," she said shortly, brushing past the men of SG-1, accidentally bumping Jack on the way.

"Watch where you're going, Major," he snapped at her.

In a surprise attack, tears welled in her eyes without warning. _Great, give him another reason to hate you,_ Sam thought.

Was this truly it? All the warmth, the flirting, the love? – gone?

Suddenly, "Mama said there'd be days like this," felt like an understatement.


	7. Chapter 7

Well peoples, here's the 7th part to our tale :) Remember that Pete whumping you guys wanted? smirk Okay, so the whumping is soft, but at least he's gone, right? and it's time Sam felt some guilt. Enjoy, guys, & reviews are welcomed :)

Mornings and Love Part 7

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Sam stayed under the cold water as long as she could stand it before she turned the knob to "off". She touched her arms; her skin was icy to the touch, a lot colder than she'd realized.

Grabbing a towel, she feverishly dried off, hoping to put some warmth in her cold limbs and torso. She looked down, surprised her toes weren't blue.

She dressed in jeans and a sweater (brrrrr!) and went to the elevator. When the doors opened, she found a weary Jack O'Neill resting against the wall. God. Jack O'Neill + BDUs hot, hot, hot! Jack O'Neill + dress blues drooling.

But Jack O'Neill + civvies?hothothothothot + oddles of drooling!

He considered her coolly for a moment before saying, "You gettin' in or what?"

Sam pursed her lips and walked forward, turning and standing next to him without speaking.

"Giving me the silent treatment, now, Carter?"

She didn't reply.

"Well, fine. Doesn't bother me."

Snort. _When hell freezes over, maybe it won't. But let's faze it, Jack O'Neill? He needs respect and hates not getting it. Why d'you think Simmons and Kinsey are on his "LIST"? – Granted, he doesn't like morons or idiots, either, and those two are seriously Dumb and Dumber, in that order._

Not one minute passed before she felt a slight…prick at her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, but she ignored it.

Then she felt it again. A frown formed.

And again. Hands clenched.

And again. Nostrils flared, deep, deep, _deep_ breath.

And ag –

"Will you _stop poking me_?" she snapped, grabbing his index finger and twisting it away.

"Ow, hey!" he exclaimed, rubbing his finger. "I could write you up for that, y'know!"

Sam snorted. "Oh, yes, I can see it now: Major S. Carter court marshaled for stopping her commanding officer from poking her."

"Court marshaled for insubordination, more like it."

"Oh, screw you!" Sam snapped.

"What!"

"Sorry – screw you, sir! Just because I rejected you, you've acted distant and cool towards me, and today you've been a total ass! I can't take this anymore!"

Just then, the doors opened and Sam flew down the hallways, dead determined to get home before the shock wore off and he came after her.

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Sam turned the corner onto her street, and groaned when she saw the car in her driveway and the man on her doorstep. Would he ever leave her alone?

She maneuvered around and parked her car in the street for a quick getaway should things get ugly enough. Though she doubted she'd need it; she was level three hand-to-hand and trained with a level four. Pete was only a cop. She could (and would) whup his ass.

"Pete, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, sighing as she went up the sidewalk.

Pete was donned in a tux, with flowers in one hand and wine in the other. How cliché.

"Look, Sam, I know I screwed up big time, but please, hear me out?" he pleaded.

Begging. And puppy-dog eyed. _God. He isn't going to make this easy on me._ Still, she nodded, briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Can I come in?" She scowled at him, giving him her "I'm-a-major-in-the-US-Air-Force-and-I-know-50-different-ways-to-kick-your-sorry-butt" look.

"Okay, never mind. Listen, I said stupid stuff on our last…er…date. I've felt absolutely horrible about it and have been trying to get time off for ages to come apologize. Please. I'm so sorry, babe. Can you forgive me?"

Sam regarded him coolly. "Forgiven," she said simply, moving to open her front door.

"Wait, Sam! Please, give us another chance?"

His voice was whiney and begging, like a four-year-old that'd gotten smacked for asking for that delicious chocolate chip cookie.

_Chocolate. Hmm…I could go for that._

"…Sammy, babe, we can start over, take it slow, please? Then maybe, a few months or a few years from now, however long you need, maybe you'll be ready to wear your ring again?"

God, the ring! Geez, what a moron she was. She'd forgotten, in her anger and hurt, to give him back the ring. Understandable, of course, and it was probably best she'd forgotten; she might have poked his eyes out using the strong little diamond.

"Come on in for a minute," she said absentmindedly, forgetting that she was trying to _get rid_ of the guy. "Wait here," she instructed as she went down the hall.

When she returned with the small, velvety box, she stopped in her tracks. Pete had poured wine into two elegant wineglasses. The lights were off and the world outside was fading into evening. Sweet, gentle music flooded her ears.

"Pete…" she sighed sadly.

"Sshh, babe."

He approached her, and placed a glass in her hand while holding his own.

"Pete, we need to talk about this." Her voice was firm and decisive. Or so she thought.

He leaned in and captured her lips slowly.

_No. This is wrong. I don't love him. Jack?_

She couldn't believe she'd just run out on him like that. What was she, a frickin' five year old? She should have sat down and had a rational talk like an adult. Instead, she threw a fit and stormed off! There wasn't a chance in hell he'd show up tonight. He wouldn't want to. And she was stuck here alone to fend off Pete for herself.

Pete suddenly captured her tongue and bit it. She winced and groaned her pain. Good god, her tongue must be bleeding after that! Pete seemed to take her groan as an arousal, something she was definitely not. Maybe if it'd been Jack…

He was getting quite aggressive in his attempts to seduce her, massaging a breast and pressing his body to hers.

Sam put down the glass and put her hands between them, gently pushing him away. As their lips parted, Pete frowned quizzically.

"Babe…what…?"

"Pete, I don't want to give us another try," she said softly.

"It's O'Neill, isn't it."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement. And a fact. One she could barely stand to hide. At the moment, she would stand atop Cheyenne Mountain and scream to the SGC personnel, "I LOVE JACK O'NEILL!" if only she could mend things with him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but yes."

Pete sniffed. "But you two can't do anything," he insisted. As if she needed him to remind her!

"We don't have to," she said, happily realizing she was speaking truthfully and from the heart. "I…I love him, just being near him. Learning from him. Having his –" she paused, making sure she left out "very hot" – "six when we're out on the field."

"You said you loved me. Many times. Why'd you say that when you so obviously love _him_?"

Sam winced at the bitter tone. Well, she did deserve it, and more. "I do love you Pete," she said, still speaking quite honestly. "But it's not in the way I tried to make it be. You're like the buddy next door. A very, very good friend, and I love you for it. But I'm not in love with you."

"But you're in love with him?" His tone was disbelieving.

Her heart purred when she said, "Yes."

"He's too old for you! God, Sam, I thought you wanted a family and kids and…and a dog!"

"No, that's what you wanted. I wouldn't care if I have a family and dog, that white picket fence with Jack. Sure, it'd be nice, but I want most of all is him. And I don't have him…not anymore."

Tears came to her eyes.

Suddenly she was being embraced by her…ex? Definitely ex. She missed Jack's hugs. A Jack O'Neill hug seemed to wrap you like a Christmas present, and he'd dip his nose into the crook of your neck.

"We can still be great," Pete whispered in her ear. "He's off limits, but I'm not."

Sam swallowed hard. "No, Pete. Please go. Please."

He held her by the shoulders and looked incredulously into her eyes before scowling. He shoved her away, and she was slammed backwards into a wall so hard it made the framed pictures shake.

Pete was gone before she could apologize again.

Damn.


	8. Chapter 8

Haha! Chapter eight underway :) That's probably all we'll see of Dorkzilla, but that's the way Sam and I want it ;) Meanwhile, Major Carter is going to become Major Suckup…

Enjoy peoples :)

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Mornings and Love Part Eight

Sam blinked slowly and walked into the kitchen. Her entire body felt numb, but she didn't care.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she looked out the window. A stray tear ran down her cheek despite her vow never to cry over a man again.

Jack.

"Oh god, if only Jack knew…" she whispered, swallowing a sob.

Soft footsteps approached from behind. "If only Jack knew what?"

Sam whirled around, barely daring to believe her ears. But there he was, in the doorway to her kitchen. Gone was anger, hate. But neither was his expression loving. He was simply – simply Jack. Her friend, who'd been there for her from day one, through every Gou'ald prison cell, through every bit of torture.

Swallowing hard, she said, "That I love him more than words describe. That I'm so, so, so sorry for pushing you away. Then for running away."

He seemed to take each word and process it slowly. After a moment, he walked forward and said, his voice soft, "I know."

"How could you?" she whispered sadly. "I didn't tell you 'til just now."

"I – I overheard you and Pete."

Sam's eyes widened. "You – you saw us?"

"Yes, enough to hear you say you loved me, and a lot more." He paused, frowning slightly. "But you shouldn't have pushed me away."

"I know," she said miserably.

"Then why did you?"

Sam sighed, looking down at the ground. "Regulations," she said. "I didn't want us to get in trouble."

"You didn't mind that first night, when you broke up with Pete," he said accusingly.

It was Sam's turn to frown. "You mean when _you_ pushed _me_ away?" He had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Uhh…yeah, I won't argue there. I did throw the first punch…"

Sam reached out and grasped his hand. "Jack, it wasn't a matter of whether I wanted to kiss you or not, because believe me, I did. I wanted to kiss you so badly, and do other things that the Air Force generally frowns on in the chain of command." She gave him a crooked smile and he blushed, again!

"Okay, well, what was it a matter of?" he asked, coughing into his other hand to try and regain composure.

"We were on base. It's one thing to break the regs here, in the security of my own home, but we'd have to be really bold to do it right under their noses."

"That's why I turned up the radio, turned off the lights, and closed the door!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, tearing his hand from hers to run it through his hair.

"Oh, yeah, my lab sure was the most secure, top-secret room on the planet," Sam said sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest.

"And so is your house," he drawled, his voice equally sarcastic, but not scornful.

"At least there's a lesser chance," she argued. "If someone at the SGC needs me, they'll phone me. Or page me."

"You have a pager?" Jack asked curiously.

"Yes, but that's not the point."

He blinked, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Why haven't I heard of this mysterious pager?" he asked teasingly, "and more importantly, why haven't I got the number?"

Sam allowed a small smirk to grace her lips. "You, have my pager number? Sir, doesn't the phone have enough annoyance potential already?"

"D'oh! I could always order you to give me the number." He waggled his eyebrows in that patented Jack O'Neill way, and Sam's insides turned to jelly.

"You _could_," she agreed, "but you won't, will you?" She did that turtle dove duck with her chin, smiling and looking up at him in that girly way.

He groaned. "Ugh, no fair, Sam. you know I can't resist the turtle dove duck!"

"What, sir?" she said innocently, batting her eyes.

"You know what, Sam. One turtle dove duck, and one look of those big blue orbs and whatever it is you're askin' for, I say 'yes'. Jeez, you are one dangerous woman! I give, already; I won't order you."

Sam's small smile grew to a large grin. Then it disappeared. "Of course, I might be convinced to give it to you anyway," she said seriously.

Jack moved closer still. "Oh, really?" he asked throatily.

"…If you forgive me," she said, her heart thumping in anticipation. This was her chance – if it didn't work she was going to have to insist that she be reassigned to Alaska.

Jack's smile started slow and seductive. "How 'bout I show you the answer?" he asked softly, cupping her chin.

The kiss started slow and sweet, but quickly grew passionate. Sam's fingers clawed at his clothed back as his did at hers. At one point, hands ventured underneath shirts, and at one point the shirts came off.

At that point, Sam led Jack down the hall to the master bedroom.


	9. Chapter 8 point 5

Mornings and Love Part 8.5

Sam's eyes flickered open, and the scent of Jack O'Neill flooded her senses. She tried to roll over, only to find herself caged by masculine arms.

She looked over to the right and found that she was indeed in the place of that pillow he'd been cuddling in his sleep so long ago. Sam Carter, major in the U.S. Air Force, had been turned into a giant teddy bear.

Sam grinned as she remembered the events of the previous night..

_Hell yeah, he looks hot first thing in the morning._


	10. Chapter 9

Heya folks :) this part takes place about a month or so after Sam and Jack's amends. Hope you like, & thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I wouldn't have written this far if I hadn't had you guys to encourage me & tell me where I made some of the dumbest mistakes

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Mornings and Love, Part Nine

Sam loved her life. No, she _really, really_ **loved** her life. She had an amazing job, good friends and family.

And she had an amazing boyfriend – well, sort of…

Sam smiled thoughtfully. The morning was beautiful – totally cliché, with those songbirds twittering about, but nonetheless beautiful. _Sigh._ Who would want to get stuck in a mountain or off-world for days on end (because she _knew_ someone would come up with _something_ to keep her there longer; they always did) when there was a perfectly wonderful world out there?

What was the point of saving the world if one couldn't enjoy it?

_To see Jack at work._

…

_And to live to be _able_ to see him, or anyone at all for that matter._

Good points. She grinned widely and went for the door with her keys, purse, and cell phone. She would eat breakfast at the SGC.

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"Morning sergeant," she said cheerfully. "How's Gina and little Chris?"

The sergeant smiled. "They're fine, ma'am, thanks. How are you?"

"I have no complaints, sergeant, not one in the world," she replied as she handed him her clearance ID. _Well, almost no complaints,_ she thought, putting her hand over a very upset stomach. It'd appeared out of nowhere; she had no idea what caused it.

"Have a good day, ma'am," he said, waving her through.

"Thank you, sergeant, you too."

As she had come to suspect, the minute she stepped off the elevator, one of the scientists managed to find her.

"_Major Carter, Major Carter!_" Felger cried, rushing at her with some…weird…thingy in tow. It was buzzing and blinking, an odd shape, with many different colors. Sam was bewildered and had never seen it before.

"_Turnitoff, turnitoff, turnitoff!_" he begged, meshing his words together. He shoved the alien device in her hands, and she blinked down at it.

"Jay, what on earth –" she started, her sore stomach forgotten.

"_It's an alien device SG-5 brought back from P45-991 now turnitoff turnitoff turnitoff before it blows up the mountain!_" he shouted hysterically, jumping, fidgeting, running in circles, and, well, simply making a big scene in the hallway.

Smiling, Sam examined the device in all her calmness, pressed a few buttons, and the device promptly stopped buzzing and glowing.

Dr. Jay Felger was still running in circles like a maniac. Evilly, she stood back and watched him. This was almost as funny as Pete honking, and she had a hard time fighting the fits of giggles that threatened to further aggravate her upset stomach.

Eventually, a SF approached the fitful doctor and said, "Uh, sir, is there a problem?"

"_Whatdoyoumean, of COURSE there's a problem you dimwit, we're about to beblownup!"_ Felger wailed.

"But–" the SF began to insist.

"_Stop standing around, get everyone evacuated you moron!_"

Alarmed, the SF looked to Sam. She shook her head sharply. "Don't," she ordered. "Everything's fine."

"_Noeverythingis NOT fine!_" Felger snapped, stopping in front of Sam. He shook her by the shoulders. "_Major Carter that device -!_"

"Is OFF, _Doctor_," Sam said, frowning. Now this was serious.

"_Wha - ? _Er, oh, yes, I knew that. Just testing to make sure you knew what to do, good man!" he said, slapping the SF on the shoulder.

"Felger, you can't just flip out like that…"

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As Sam went down the hallway, she saw her team sitting at a table in the cafeteria through the open doorway. Smiling, she sped up to meet them, but as she entered the cafeteria, an army of smells bombarded her and she felt nauseous.

Covering her mouth, shocked and surprised, she turned and fled from the room. She had just managed to reach the women's bathroom when she hurled into the first toilet she could reach.

As she went through the process of upchucking last night's dinner, she heard someone approach. That person pulled what they could of her short hair out of her face, and rubbed her back.

_Jack._

Yep, that was definitely his backrub. God, his hands felt good. She would've told him to rub lower, but her mouth was kind of preoccupied in that horrid process that made her whole being feel gross, disgusting, and pretty much every other icky word in the dictionary.

Sam was immensely relieved when she could finally stop, and stood shakily, faltering clumsily.

Jack caught her and steadied her. "Easy, hon, don't want you falling headfirst into the toilet," he whispered in her ear, embracing her lovingly.

She would've liked that any other time, but she felt so bad, she just… "Jack, please," she whispered back, hoarsely, "I don't feel…I feel…"

Mom's Rules on Relationships, Rule No. 355: If the guy knows when to stop hugging and back away slowly, (acceptable times: when one is throwing up, in a seriously irritable mood from work/etc, or when one is on her period and feels sore and crummy), _keep him_. Some guys just don't get it.

Slowly, but somewhat reluctantly, she sensed, he let go and turned her around by the shoulders. "Like you don't want to be hugged or loved right now?" he whispered, his voice so soft she could barely hear it. She nodded gratefully.

Gently, he kissedher foreheadand backed out of the stall. Smiling weakly, Sam followed him. At that moment, the door opened and a young female lieutenant walked in. Seeing Jack and Sam, she immediately stood to attention. "Sir, ma'am!" she said, surprised.

"Lieutenant," Jack acknowledged, nodding.

"Um, sir?" the lieutenant asked.

"Yes?"

"You're, uh, in the ladies room. Sir."

"Technical difficulties," Jack said smoothly. "We're done in here. C'mon, Carter," he said to Sam.

Feeling lightheaded, Sam chose to follow him, wherever he may go. It turns out he led her to the infirmary.

"Sir," she protested.

"Carter, all I'm asking is for a quick physical," he said. "Please?"

He threw his "you know you like me" smile at her, and she groaned. "Fine. Sir."

"Thank you," he said, and, spotting Dr. Fraiser, he said, "Hey, doc! We've got a grumpy major over here that I want checked out."

"I'm not grumpy," Sam grumbled irritably.

"I'm not sure grumpiness counts as a physical problem, Colonel," Dr. Fraiser said as she walked over. "What's wrong?"

"Isn't that what we're here to find out?" Jack asked sarcastically.

Sighing, Dr. Fraiser looked pointedly at Sam. Sam grinned weakly. "I, ah, might have had a bit of trouble keeping my food down this morning… "

"What she means is, the minute she entered the cafeteria, she looked like she'd just seen Michael Jackson doing a striptease and fled to puke all of last night's dinner into a toilet."

By the time he'd got to "into a toilet", both Dr. Fraiser and Sam were gagging, both from trying not to puke at the mere thought, and trying not to laugh.

"Blech, sir!" Sam finally managed. "Please, it's making me sick just thinking about it!"

"About what?" Jack asked innocently. "The throwing up or Michael Jack –"

"Sir!" both Sam and Dr. Fraiser cried, effectively cutting him off. He smirked.

"Yeeeeess?" he drawled, fully enjoying himself.

"Out," Dr. Fraiser said firmly.

"But I'm her –" he stopped suddenly, then shook his head and continued, "– her CO, f'cryin' out loud!"

"And you're disrupting my infirmary, or, more accurately, me. So leave, Colonel, please."

Jack frowned. "Oh, fine," he growled, stalking out of the infirmary in what appeared to be a dangerous mood.

Janet turned back to Sam and began her physical.

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When Sam got home that evening, her current situation hadn't improved. In fact, she was worse! She had a massive headache from Felger, hand burns from Felger's latest screw-up (at least it hadn't been world-dooming or fatal to her personally), and her stomach was rioting like a mob of mutants.

Luckily, Sam's six throw-ups had been discreet and no one popped up in her lab to send her home with her tail between her legs.

Or was that _un_luckily?

Groaning, on her way to her bedroom, she stopped in the bathroom for hurl number seven. Sam wiped her mouth and glared at her reflection in the mirror.

Suddenly, an unruly thought broke away from the thought stream and surfaced to mind.

Sam's eyes widened in horror.

Despite her rebellious stomach, she ran into her room and ripped the calendar from the wall, flipping back to the previous month. Her eyes caught the last red marks she could find and feverishly counted the weeks since then.

_Oh CRAP._

She was two weeks late.


	11. Chapter 10

Tenth chapter coming up :) Would anyone care to place a wager: Is Sam really, or isn't she? Let's find out, shall we? --smirk--

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Mornings and Love, Part Ten

Sam leaned against the wall, her knees weak, rioting stomach all forgotten. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

As she ran her hand through her short, blonde hair, Sam tried to calm herself. _Deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths._ "Just because you're a little late, it doesn't mean you're pregnant," she told herself firmly. "It could be a coincidence." An unlikely coincidence, granted.

"It's nothing to worry about," she said aloud, her voice providing only some comfort. "I'll just go to the grocery store and get a box of home pregnancy tests. Absolutely nothing to worry about. If it's false, it's false, and I'm all hyperventilating over nothing. If it's true…"

She didn't want to think about what she'd do or feel if it was proven true, first by a little stick, and then by the doctors she'd go to afterwards. Because if it was false, she didn't want to get excited to only get let down.

_And if it's true, there ARE those pesky side effects of having your CO's baby. Like court marshal, demoting, dishonorable discharge, any combination of those._

Did Jack even want a child?

Sam's mind went to Charlie as she drove. Her heart went out to Jack. He probably put every ounce of blame on himself, when in truth it wasn't. Yes, Charlie got to his personal sidearm, but if she knew Jack, he had probably pounded gun safety into Charlie's head the moment the kid took interest. Before then, even. She didn't know the exact circumstances, but she could easily see Jack sitting at home, caring for his weapon, when he got an urgent phone call and was called away; not having time to lock it away properly, he would rush out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Then getting home, to find his wife welcoming him with open arms, then to hear a shattering bullet pierce the air.

Would Jack want a child after his own son died, regardless of the circumstances surrounding Charlie's death.

He was great with kids. Look at Cassie! And Merrin, from that planet that sucked kids' brains out. And Retu Charlie. And Skaara.

But his own?

Sam pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery and went inside, stalking down aisles like she was on a hunt and destroy mission. Finally she came to the feminine health products, and swiped the first box of tests she could find off the shelf. She was about to turn around and march to the cash register to pay, when she heard the door open with the dingle of a bell, and a voice speaking politely, probably to the clerk.

"Good afternoon."

Jack!

Even in her own mind, Sam found that she sounded pathetically like Felger: _Ohno! Ohno! Ohno! Whaddo I DO?_

Quickly she gathered an array of items she didn't really need, including some that, if she was right, she wouldn't need for almost a year: tampons, and maxi pads. She decided that shampoo wouldn't hurt, either, or conditioner, or shaving cream, or more razors…

Spotting a basket rack at the end of the aisle, she grabbed one and dumped the items in, rearranging them so that the tests weren't visible. Huh. _Needs more items,_ she thought, noticing that the items she'd procured didn't have quite the right effect. She wandered down some of the aisles and picked up some frozen dinners, peanut butter, and fruit.

Huh. That actually sounded good, peanut butter and fruit. Mmmm. Apples, grapes, and bananas, all covered with peanut butter – and CHOCOLATE! Her mouth started watering. She was surprised this, of all food combos, didn't make her puke. Just the thought of a salad, steak, and baked potato made her feel sick.

_Oh, hello cravings. And the odds that I'm _not_ pregnant are…?_

To her basket, she added chocolate syrup, double-fudge brownie ice cream, and two bags of Hershey's bars, the dark kind. _Mmmmmmmmm._

With thoughts of fruit, peanut butter, and chocolate running through her mind, she almost forgot the reason she had a basket-full of items when she was only here for one product. Jack. She stood behind him at the counter, and, when he heard her approach, he looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Carter!" he said brightly. "Feeling any better?" he asked sympathetically.

"Um, yes sir," she said. _Act nonchalant. It's no biggie that you're seeing your CO at the store. It never was before, and it's not now._ "Thank you," she added. She _was_ touched by his concern.

"Wanna come over to my place?" he asked. "We've got pizza, beer, chips, and beer!"

Her throat felt tight and well, puke-ish at the very thought. "No thank you, sir," she said, forcing herself to smile. "Game night?" she asked.

"Yep. Hockey," he said, grinning that grin that turned her insides to mush.

Sam did her turtle dove duck to hide her growing smile, then met his eyes again, a true smile firmly in place.

Suddenly, his teasing gaze turned soft and warm, and he gentle touched her forearm. "Hey," he said softly, "you sure you don't want to come 'round? I'd love your company. We never really see each other outside of work, since…well, not like that anymore."

They had seen each other several times outside of work, in cozy, boyfriend-girlfriend situations. But none had been intimate, not since that night. Was it sex he wanted? Well, she _had_ said she was feeling better. Thinking about the possibility, she realized she would probably barf her guts out all over him, and herself.

"I'm sure, sir," she said, her eyes darting at her basket. "I have something to do at home."

"Cleaning? Work? Carter, you never stop, do you?"

"Sir?" she asked.

He moved up to the register and put his basket on the counter for the clerk. "Working. Thinking. Come to my place. You ought to relax. This morning's throw-up incident is golden proof."

_He thinks it's stress. Is this good or bad?_ "No sir," she said firmly. His confused and slightly hurt expression was a knife digging into her heart. "It's not that I don't _want_ to, sir," she assured him as he handed a twenty to the clerk, "it's just –"

"Fine, whatever, Carter," he said, grabbing his bags and leaving the store.

Sam sighed and ran her hand through her hair again. She could just hear her mother say, _THAT, my dear, was rejection. Go kick his ass._ But she was too sore and stiff to be kicking anybody's ass, let alone his.

God, that hurt. She should've gone to his place with him, found time to excuse herself to use the bathroom, and done the test there. Two birds with one stone.

But what would she do with the stick? She couldn't throw it away there. He would find it, and he would know. Then he'd be pissed that she didn't find her discovery, the possibility that she was pregnant, important enough to share with him.

Or, he would think the worst, and think he wasn't important enough…

"Miss?" the elderly clerk asked politely.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry?"

"Shall I ring those items up for you?" he said.

"Yes please." She handed him the basket.

He paused when he got to the pregnancy tests, buried beneath all the other items. His eyes flew to hers in understanding, but said nothing as he quietly went along, ringing up the rest of the items.

"Thirty-two forty," he announced. As she handed over two twenties, he leaned in and asked, "Listen, was that man harassing you? 'Cos I might be an old fart, but I still remember how to kick butt from the ole' Marine days."

Marine? She smiled, imagining a seventy-two year old Marine retiree taking on Jack O'Neill. "No, he wasn't," she said, "but that would be a sight to see. There's a group of Marines where we work and he can't stand them. Er, no offense."

"None taken," he assured. "What branch?" he asked.

"Sorry?"

"What branch? It's obvious you two were military, by your 'sir' and his 'Carter'. Him calling you Carter was the solid evidence, though. See, I figure, no one in their right mind calls a pretty woman by their boyish surname unless they're military."

Sam giggled. "Air Force," she said, somewhat shyly.

The man's eyes twinkled. "Ah, I knew a pretty Air Force girl once," he said, whistling low to prove his point. "Boy, she was something else."

"What happened?"

"I married her!" he laughed. "And we've got six kids, two of which are Air Force, two of which are Marines, and two of which who can't stand the military!"

Sam laughed, thanked him, and gathered her things. "See you later," she said, sincerely hoping she did.

She drove home and put the fruit and ice cream away, leaving all the rest in the bags but for the tests. Nervously, she took them to the bathroom, opened the box, and selected one, and brought it to the toilet.

Once she was sitting on the toiler with her pants around her ankles, she gave her fingers the job of removing the plastic from the stick. They were trembling, and she had a somewhat difficult time, but finally managed.

She sat, staring at the thing for a long time, before her nerves got the best of her. She thrust it in the general direction of the wastebasket, yanked her pants up, and waddled out to the kitchen.

Checking the clock, she found that it was 1900. She picked up the phone and dialed the SGC.

"…Hi, Janet? I sorta have a problem…yeah, please? Thank you. Yeah. Bye."

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"Alright, what's the problem?" the petite doctor asked when Sam opened the door to let her in.

"Come with me?" Sam said, going to the bathroom. Janet followed.

"Err, wait here," Sam said as she stepped into the bathroom, closing the door.

A moment later, she heard Janet knock. "Sam? Can I come in?"

She stood and put the test on the counter, pulling up her pants. "Yes."

The door opened slowly, and Janet appeared. "Hey, what's wrong?" the doctor asked softly. Sam took the test and handed it to her, not once looking at the result.

Janet took it and gasped. "Sam! This is a pregnancy test!"

"Yes," came Sam's dry sob. "I need you to tell me if it's positive or negative. Please."

Janet's warm hand squeezed her shoulder from behind. "Which do you want it to be?" she asked gently.

"I don't know!" Sam sobbed, tears coming. "A baby – wow! That – that would be the most amazing thing that's happened to me in a long, long time! But –"

"Yes?" Janet prompted.

"The father," she whispered.

"You know who it would be, right?" Janet asked, her voice filled with worry. "Pete?"

Pete! Sam's stomach rioted at the thought. But – oh god, it was possible! Could Pete be the father of her baby?

She couldn't imagine having a baby with Pete. His voice floated back to her…

_He's too old for you! God, Sam, I thought you wanted a family and kids and…and a dog!_

"Please, no," she whispered.

"What?" Janet's voice brought her back to reality.

"I broke up with Pete," Sam said. "Please, Janet, just tell me: am I pregnant? I – I just can't bring myself to find out myself."

The doctor hesitated. "No."

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Please don't hurt me! --hides from pelting, rotten fruitbehind rocking chair--


	12. Chapter 11

I'm very evil, aren't I? Well, you're all probably wondering, "WHAT the HELL!" but be assured, this should smooth out most of the wrinkles of worry…

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Mornings and Love Part Eleven

Shock rippled though Sam's body again. She swallowed hard. "Well," she stammered, "I – I guess this simplifies things a lot more. I m-mean, me, with a child? What would I do, drop the baby off at daycare while I go fight some evil bad guy on some remote planet on the edge of the galaxy? I mean, what if one day I kissed the little girl goodbye, said I loved her, left, and never came back!"

"I think you'd be a great mother, Sam, just look at how well you do with Cassie," Janet said, a bit of caution in her voice.

Sam said, "That was mostly you," sniffing. She paused, then tears fully cascaded down her cheeks. "God, what am I saying? I wanted that child. I wouldn't let myself dream, imagine, when I first thought…but still, inside, I wanted that child and I still do."

Janet hugged her. "Well…" the doctor said worriedly.

Sam pulled back, looking Janet in the eye. "Well, what?" she demanded.

"If it helps any…I kind of…lied."

Sam's jaw dropped. "You _what!_" she nearly shouted, snatching the test from her friend, staring disbelievingly at the positive mark it held. She looked back up at Janet, who shrugged sheepishly.

"You didn't seem sure if you wanted to be pregnant, so I kind of fibbed. I didn't think I'd find out any other way," Janet confessed.

Sam began to laugh. "You _are_ a Napoleonic Warmonger!" she cried, the sorrowful tears turning to tears of joy and relief. "Evil, you!" She poked Janet in the shoulder, hard. "Had me thinking I wasn't pregnant!"

"You gonna tell me who the father is?" Janet asked.

"After that it should be you owing _me_ a favor!" Sam grinned.

"So, you're not mad at me?" Janet asked hopefully.

Sam sighed, took a moment to taste her tears, and looked back to Janet. "No, of course not," she said sincerely. "It's too happy a moment to ruin it by getting all upset over nothing."

Sam begged Janet not to tell anyone yet, though. "I don't have another mission for a week, and I'd like to mull this over first," she told her. "And I'd like to tell General Hammond myself."

"Not even Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam winced. "Not even him," she said firmly. _Especially not him._ "I'll tell him myself, too."

Still looking unhappy with the situation, Janet shrugged and smiled. They hugged once more and Janet took her leave.

Sighing, Sam went into her bedroom and flopped down on the bed. She reached over to the nightstand and opened a drawer, rummaging around sightlessly for _the_ photo.

Feeling the cool, slick surface of a recently-taken picture, she pulled it out and shoved the drawer closed, and gazed at her Colonel. He was wearing civvies, and leaning against the wall with the hottest smirk she'd ever seen, his arms crossed over his chest in his usual cocky stance.

She kissed the photo lightly and put it on the pillow beside her.

Her eyelids drooped and she yawned, an evening nap sounding very nice indeed. She snuggled up to the pillow, secretly wishing it were someone else…

_Today was Janet, tomorrow, Jack…_ she thought before drifting away to a light slumber.


	13. Chapter 12

Part 12 underway :) Hope you like! S/J fluff at the end :)

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Mornings and Love Part Twelve

When Sam woke, her first thought was, _I'm going to have a baby._

It was the most wonderful thought in the world, and she smiled down at her stomach, trying to imagine it the size of a basketball. She sat up and rubbed it underneath her shirt, wincing when she realized she'd slept the whole night through while fully clothed, bra, jeans, and all.

_Yeck._ A shower was definitely in order. The warm water would soothe her legs and torso.

When she had showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't look bad; not fancy or sweatpants-class. Just…Sam. Simple. She felt like she was shining.

Of course, the small fact that, in nine months, there was going to be a little Carter…O'Neill?..._could_ have contributed to it.

Was she looking good enough to visit Jack, though?

Shocked at that thought, she jabbed at herself several times about being strong, not needing to have a man (despite the fact she was head-over-heels in love with this one man in particular), and about being _confident._

She grinned wildly at the memory of one of her mother's jokes: _Men can smell fear, Sammie. Suck it in and be a soldier, silly! And if that doesn't work, kick 'em where it hurts._

By the time she got to Jack's place, she was feeling much more confident in herself and her abilities. However, when she got to the porch and rang the doorbell, almost all that confidence plunged down the toilet, leaving her all but defenseless.

After a moment, she heard footsteps and Jack opened the door. Shock and disbelief was donned on his face. "Carter?" he said incredulously.

She gave him a weak smile. "Hi, sir…Jack."

Smirking, he said, "Sir Jack? Am I your knight in shining armor, Lady Samantha?"

Sam giggled, the tension easing considerably between them. "As long as I'm not a damsel in distress," she said. "Can I come in?"

He nodded, moving into his living room. She followed and sat next to him on the couch.

"Hey, you want coffee?" he asked.

"Umm…I'm not sure if I can stomach it. I…I have something I need to tell you."

He nodded, eyebrows burrowing in a frown of concern. "Something wrong?" he said softly, moving closer to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"No…no, I don't think so. I'm just not going to be able to stay on SG-1 for a few months…" she said, trying to cautiously ease into the subject.

"What? Why!"

"Well, the thing is…I'm…I'm…"

"Yes?" he prompted gently.

"God! Why is it so hard to say this to you? It was easier with Janet…"

"C'mon, Carter, unless you're going to tell me you've got a life-threatening disease like cancer or are pregnant, I don't see what's getting you so riled up. I'm not a hard guy to talk to," he grinned, "and you _don't _have a life-threatening disease and you're not pregnant."

Sam paled several shades. She looked away from his grinning face. "What…if I told you I was?" she asked quietly. She hated how her arms were trembling and her legs tense.

"Pregnant?" he asked, his voice faint. "Is…is it mine?"

"I think so. I hope so," she said, still not looking at him.

Suddenly, he jumped up, all but leaving her in an undignified pile on the floor. He danced around, whooping, punching the air with a fist, and hurried back to sweep her to her feet. He swung her around, faster, faster!

"Think this is a good thing," she managed to mumble, grinning like mad until her stomach started to erupt within her. "Jack, Jack! JACK!" she yelped, covering her mouth awkwardly in his arms.

"What? Are you okay?" He put her down quickly, and she dashed to the bathroom, hearing him hot on her heels. For what seemed to be the zillionth time, she gagged into the toilet.And, just as he did the day before, he moved her hair from her face and rubbed her back.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said sincerely. "I – I'm just so darn excited!"

When she was through puking up bile – since she didn't have anything else in her – she straightened, trying to ignore the pain in her back. "Ugh, it's okay," she said with a weak smile.

Jack pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her forehead, cheeks, nose, and eyelids. "I love you," he whispered. Clearing his throat, he told her, "I'm going to retire."

Shocked, she looked up. "What!" she exclaimed.

He cupped her cheek. "Sam, I'm not going to push you into anything," he said, "but I _do_ want this to continue, for it to grow and thrive. We _do_ have something, right?" he asked worriedly.

Sam grinned. "Yes, we do. A very weird something, but I feel it in here," she pressed her hand over her heart, "and I think you do, too."

"More than you'll ever know," he promised.

"But it should be me that resigns," Sam said. "I'm going to be on maternity leave, and we don't know what effects Stargate travel can have on a fetus. I'm not taking the chance," she said stubbornly, meeting his look at returning it pointedly.

"Sam, my career's almost at its end," he said. "A couple more years and they'll force me to stop field work. Can you imagine me with a desk job, Sam? I'm no desk jockey. You, on the other hand, still have something going for you. It'd be a cold day in hell when I get a star."

Sam watched him intently for a moment. "Jack, my mother died when I was fourteen. Car accident."

"Oh, Sam…"

"I don't want that happening to my baby," she said. "I'm not going to battle some galactic snakehead knowing that I might not come back, knowing that my child would have to go through what I went through."

"But Sam, that possibility is still very real on earth."

"Please, Jack," she whispered, snuggling into him. "Please. This is what I want to do."

Jack hesitated for a moment, then he sighed. "I'm not going to change your mind, am I?" he asked, cradling her fondly.

Sam smiled into his shirt. "No…" she mumbled.

"Alright. You win, woman," he said, pulling her face up to look at her.

Sam giggled. "And I didn't even have to do my turtle dove duck," she teased, then she hugged him tightly. He squeezed her back. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I'll talk to Hammond tomorrow, honey."

"No, let me," she said. He nodded.

"He likes you better anyway, Sammie," Jack smirked, firmly giving her a kiss on the lips.

"I draw the line at 'Sammie'."

"Sweetie Pie?"

"Jack!"

"Cutie Pie?"

"_Jack_!"

"Snookums?"

"That's it, where's my zat!"


	14. Chapter 13

Let's see, Jack, and even Janet, responded rather well to Sam's news, but what about General Hammond? …hehe –evil smirk– Let's find out, shall we :) Oh, and at the end, we switch POVs temporarily...

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Mornings and Love Part Thirteen

Sam hesitated outside Hammond's door, her hand raised to knock. _Last chance to back out of it, Sammie,_ her conscience told her. Sheknocked. _Never mind…_

"Enter," came Hammond's voice.

She took a deep, deep, _deeeeeep_ breath and turned the handle. Giving herself another puff of air, she swung it open and walked in, more confident than she really felt.

Hammond smiled at her from behind his desk. "Good morning, Major," he said, "what can I do for you?"

Sam smiled weakly. "Good morning sir," she replied. "I have something to…confess, sir," she began.

Hammond's expression grew wary. "Go on, Major…"

Sam closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Sir, I'm pregnant."

Hammond smiled at her. "This is good news, although I'd be sad to see you go. You will be coming back to us, right?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

Sam did her turtle dove duck, not even realizing it. "Yes sir," she said, somewhat shyly. "But I'd like to be a civilian when I do return."

Hammond frowned. "Why is that, Major?" he asked.

Sam took a deep breath. "Sir, you remember, my mother…"

Understanding clicked in Hammond's eyes. He closed them, briefly, and said, "Say no more, Major. l can assume this means you want a position as a full-time scientist at the SGC?"

"Yes sir, I would love that," she said, beaming a true smile. This wasn't as hard as she'd thought.

"Very well. I'll see what I can do for you, Major. In the meantime, I think you have a team to inform? But first, have Doctor Fraiser check you out."

"Yes sir!" she said enthusiastically, practically skipping out the door at his dismissal.

"Oh, and Major?"

She froze and turned in the doorway. "Yes sir?" she asked warily.

"Who's the father?"

_Nothing gets by General Hammond,_ Sam thought. "Sir, I'd like an opportunity to answer that question – _after_ I'm officially a civilian of the United States, and not an officer of the United States Air Force."

Hammond nodded in understanding. "Of course, Major. I won't want to know it until then." Sam nodded and turned to leave.

She gave a small smile as she closed the door behind her. General Hammond knew a lot more than anyone realized.

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"Doctor Fraiser…Janet…they know. I need some tests done."

Janet smiled. "Come with me."

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General Hammond picked up the phone, _very _ready to gather all the others, boast about his victory, and make them fork over the cash. Then he slammed it down, very irritably, as he realized, "I can't get my money without acknowledging what I 'don't know'..."

He groaned and banged his head on his desk, accidentally spilling his coffee in the process. In the hurry to save his papers and books and such, he thought, _This office really does need a "bang head here" sign..._


	15. Chapter 14

Here's the fourteenth part of our story :) Enjoy!

Wow…I just saw the season 10 premiere for Stargate SG-1 – and I was quite surprised! Mitchell still has his head up his butt, but the rest of it was actually pretty satisfying. Even Vala seems to have grown a personality (though I can't speak much for her daughter). I guess there's hope after all :)

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Mornings and Love Part Fourteen

"Well, I am glad to announce that the fetus is healthy," Janet said as she walked into the infirmary, to where Sam was lying on one of those drab hospital beds. "Gate travel didn't seem to have affected it in any way."

Sam exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "Thank god," she murmured.

Janet smiled at her. "Now, what's the verdict?"

"Hmm?"

"Sam – General Hammond, your job, _his_ job?"

"I doubt that the General's job is in any danger," Sam said.

"You know who I mean."

Sam sighed. "I'm resigning."

"What?" Janet exclaimed.

"I'm not risking it."

"Risking what?"

"My baby having to grow up…motherless…like I did…" Sam murmured, tears glittering in her eyes.

Janet nodded, wisely choosing not to push the topic. "So, he knows?" she said nonchalantly.

"Yes, both of them."

"Both of who know what?" Jack asked as he strode in.

Janet and Sam exchanged a look. "Nothing," they said together.

He raised an eyebrow. "O-kay," he said slowly. He paused a moment, then smiled brightly and said, "So, what's up?" with a knowing look in his eye.

"Just getting us checked out," Sam replied with a small smile of her own.

"Ah…I assume everything's okay?" he said, with a slightly fearful look in his eye.

Sam's smile exploded across her face. "Yes sir, we're great!" she said, unable to contain her happiness.

Jack's grin widened too. "Great!" he echoed enthusiastically.

"Well, I'm obviously somewhat of a third wheel, here, so I'll leave you two alone," said Janet with a knowing smile. "Sam, you're free to go whenever you're ready."

With that, Janet left, leaving Sam and Jack alone in the infirmary.

Still grinning like a madman, Jack leaned over and hugged her. "Sir!" she squeaked, though fully enjoying it.

"I know, I know," he sighed, straightening. She missed his warmth almost instantly "Not on base, yaddi yadda." He smiled tenderly at her, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes.

Sam took his hand and grasped it, squeezing it affectionately. "I talked to General Hammond," she said.

"And?"

"And he's going to do what he can to help me…us," she revised.

"'Us'? Did you…?"

"No, but we definitely don't give him enough credit for knowing _everything_ that goes on in this mountain," she said, emphasizing the word.

Jack nodded. "When are you expecting an answer?"

"I don't know. I assume –"

Just then, Walter's voice came on the loudspeakers: "Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill to General Hammond's office, Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill to General Hammond's office," he summoned.

Sam and Jack exchanged looks. "So soon?" Jack said inquiringly.

Sam was stunned. "The Man is good," she murmured, and her stomach twittered with flights of nervousness.

Jack squeezed her hand and helped her up. However, when she was on her feet and perfectly able to walk on her own, he would not let go. He looped his arm through hers, and she gave him a quizzical look, twirking an eyebrow like Teal'c.

"Sir?" she asked.

Jack winked; "Just trust me," he whispered, and began to skip along with her in tow. Minutes after he began, Sam joined in singing:

"_We've off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz, because because because…"_

The SF guards in the hallways stared as they passed, each inevitably thinking, _Why are they singing "Wizard of Oz" and why did Dr. Fraiser let them out of her cage – err, infirmary – in THAT state?_


	16. Chapter 15

Sorry for making you all wait so long :) Enjoy.

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Mornings and Love Part 15

"Sir, you have an answer?" Sam asked as she and Jack stepped through the door. Jack closed the door behind them and looked expectantly at his CO.

"Not yet, Major," he said reluctantly. "But we have received word from your father."

"Dad?" she said worriedly. "I didn't know the 'Gate was active."

"There was a malfunction with the alarm system."

"Oh."

"Anyway," he said, "he's coming tomorrow for a little visit. Seems the To'kra finally gave him some downtime."

"_Tomorrow?_" Sam squeaked. "Oh my god, what am I going to say to him!"

"The truth always works," said General Hammond.

She took a deep breath. "Right. Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. Dismissed – and good luck."

Jack winced. A "good luck" was in order? Crap!

As they wandered down the halls, he suddenly pulled Sam into a tight hug from behind. He whispered in her ear, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

Sam smiled sadly. "Knowing Dad? Yes, you're dead, but not 'til he's done with me."

"He's more likely to come after me, though, isn't he?" Jack was confused.

"No. Remember when you first met him?"

"Yeah."

"He tried to get me to quit my 'deep space radar telemetry' job to go to NASA. Let's just say he's a little too overprotective of _MY_ job. No, scratch that; make that, he's _way_ too overprotective of my _LIFE_."

Jack winced again. "So…you die first?" he asked, smirking.

"Gee, thanks."

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The Stargate was rendered inactive as the Tok'ra Jacob and Selmak came down the ramp. "Hey, George!" he said, shaking hands with his old buddy. "Where's my Sammie?"

A couple of SFs in the corner snickered quietly, but the two generals ignored them. "She's a bit preoccupied at the moment," Hammond said nonchalantly.

"Please tell me my baby girl –" the snickers grew louder – "isn't off on some deserted planet getting muddy and rained on and working her hind off when it's supposed to be our vacation?" Jacob glared, half tempted to use the glowy-eyes thing Selmak had.

Hammond chuckled. "More likely she's throwing up or getting chastised by Dr. Fraiser."

Jacob's irritated expression vanished in a flash, and he said, "Is she alright?" he asked. "Is she sick!"

Smirking slightly, Hammond said, "Let me give you a little mini-briefing, and I'll let Sam handle the rest."

He paused. "By the way, Jacob," he said, "you owe me fifty dollars."

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"**_SHE'S WHAT?_**"

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"Think he's throttling Hammond in there?"

"Shush! – No, I don't think so."

They were kneeling with their faces pressed against the door, eavesdropping conspicuously and not caring which passerby saw them.

…

"Maybe he is…"

"Sir!" If she had to tell him to SHUSH one more time…

The door opened suddenly, sending Jack and Sam sprawling on two pairs of feet.

"Or not…" Jack said belatedly as Jacob and Hammond stared down at them. Hammond looked amused, but Jacob was definitely pissed.

"SAMANTHA JEAN CARTER!" he roared, yanking her up by a sleeve. "I HAVE HALF A MIND TO BEND YOU OVER MY KNEE AND START WHOOPING YOU WITH THE BIGGEST WILLOW BRANCH I CAN FIND UNLESS YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"

Sam blinked, and, as coolly as she could manage, she said, "Dad, I will not have this conversation in the doorway of General Hammond's office and certainly not while you're in this temper."

"TEMPER! MY DAUGHTER IS THROWING AWAY HER –"

"Dad, shut up!" Sam snapped. _God, I knew this would happen._

Mom's Rules On –

She froze mentally. Damn, her mother never gave her any tips on calming Dad down – or on what to SAY to said father should she ever find herself in a situation where she was pregnant, unmarried, and kinda-sorta seeing her CO.

_Gee, thanks, Mom…_

"Sam, don't you dare tell me to –"

"Dad, will you _give me a break_, for cryin' out loud!" Sam roared, not noticing Jack's wry smile when she used his expression.

"A BREAK? That's the last thing you need! You don't even know who the father is, do you?" he demanded.

Sam's anger flared, for she knew what he implied. "YES, damn it, I DO know who he is!"

Jack suddenly found his boots to be very interesting. _Huh, needs more polish…_ She wasn't going to rat him out before she was even resigned, was she?

"Well, who is it!" Jacob snapped, looking every bit as angry as no father would be. His unsaid addition seemed to be, "who is he so I can kill him?"

"I will not reveal this information until I have had a chance to speak with him about it," Sam said coldly. _Like hell I'd rat Jack out…_

"Sam, this is absolutely insane! Jack, tell her she's crazy!"

Jack looked at Sam, and after a brief moment, he said, "You're crazy." His faint, ghost of a smile and his twinkling eyes told Sam otherwise. In fact, she could almost hear him retort, _You'd have to be in order to do what we do on a daily basis,_ and smiled.

"What are you smiling about? For heaven's sake, Sam, how are you single-handedly going to raise a small child, I mean, with your schedule!"

"That's why I'm resigning and taking a lab job, Dad," Sam said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, then it dawned on her when her dad's expression paled and reddened with fury, "He…didn't tell you…did he?" she asked faintly, glaring at Hammond and not caring he was her superior officer.

Infuriated, Jacob yelled, "No you are NOT! I refuse to let you throw away your career!"

"I'm not, Dad!"

"YOU ARE!" Jacob shouted. His chest heaved, and after a moment, he cut her off when she tried to calm him again. This time, more calmly than she ever imagined, he said, "Have you considered an abortion?"

The shock was strong and obvious on both Sam and Jack's faces. Both faces were white, like marble, and eyes were wide.

Jack, on one hand, said nothing, but his mind was spiraled into an abyss of doubts. Sam had been excited about their baby, right? She…she wouldn't kill it, would she? Then he felt sick when he remembered Charlie. God. He couldn't let her be pressured into it. He couldn't. Because if he didn't convince her to keep it...

Then he'd be a child killer – twice.

Sam, on the other hand, was absolutely stunned. When she got past her shock, her hands moved right to her abdomen and cried, "NO!" Then her fury won the upper hand. She did something she'd never done, ever, in her entire life; not when her mother died, not when Mark and her dad, grief-driven and full of hate, drove her insane, not when she didn't go on the first mission to Abydos, not when her dad tried to make her give up her job at the SGC, did she EVER do this. Sam raised her trembling fist and rammed it into Jacob's face, aiming wildly.

The impact was strong and it threw Jacob backwards; not enough to knock him off his feet, as afterwards she secretly wished he would, but enough to leave him staring at her incredulously.

Sam didn't stick around long enough for him to find out. Jack did, only to rush after her a few minutes later. He was awed. That act alone told him all he needed to know, and all his worries about abortion were chased away by a triumphant, relieved feeling. While one part of him was mentally waving a "WAY TO GO, SAM!" banner and dancing like a madman, the other part of him wanted to be as close to her as possible, to hold her warm, solid figure to him, to shower her face and lips with kisses, and to thank her over, and over, and over again.


	17. Chapter 16

Mornings and Love Part 16

Jack found Sam nowhere on base. _Of course she'd leave the base,_ he thought. Hell, with a father like hers, he'd be surprised if she didn't leave the country.

Quickly he signed out, noticing her name only a couple signatures above his. Both signatures were of his team: Daniel and Teal'c. Somehow, they must've heard what was going on and went after her.

His phone rang just as he got in the car. Fiddling with it in one hand and the car keys in the other, he said tersely, "Yes?"

"Jack, it's Sam! She's not at her house! She hit her father and ran off and –"

"Whoa, Danny!" Jack said, frowning. "I know. So?"

"You aren't going to help us look for her!" Daniel's voice was angry.

"Relax. You and Teal'c are enough." He had stopped shaking the keys and made no move to start the engine; if he wanted to catch Sam alone, they mustn't know he was concerned, let alone ready to zip out of the SGC parking lot.

"Of all the –!"

Jack promptly flipped the cell off and pulled the battery off. Then he made his way towards the one place he was sure he'd find Sam.

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Jack pulled into his driveway and shut off the motor. Happy and somewhat smug that, as he'd predicted, Sam's car was right beside him. _Am I good, or am I good?_

He strolled up the walkway with a bounce in his step, whistling Gene Kelly as he went. Without hesitation he opened the door and went inside, knowing he wouldn't need to unlock the door.

There she was, sitting on his couch in tearstained BDUs. Her head shot up, and before either one of them could say their salutations she launched herself at him with a dry sob, burying her face in his shoulder and neck. She was shaking, and seemed small and vulnerable in his arms.

Wordlessly Jack held her, rubbing her back to soothe the pain and helplessness she was undoubtedly feeling. Then, when she seemed to calm down some, he kissed her neck gently, not in a seducing manner – he didn't take advantage of drunk or crying women, and knew anyone who tried to do that with Sam probably didn't live long – but in a gentle, loving way that warmed her heart, just to settle it all.

Once she had stopped crying, he kept her firmly in his embrace but pulled her head back to face him. Smiling softly, he whispered, "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

Sniffing and exhaling once more, Sam asked, puzzled, "What for?"

His smile widened. "Got a couple of hours?"

His response earned him a giggle and a toothless, shy smile, and he continued, "For everything. For being the mother of my child," a hand dropped to her belly, which he rubbed lovingly, "for putting up with an old, cantankerous flyboy like me, and for, I think, loving me…?"

Sam playfully slapped his forearm and sank into his arms, resting her head on his chest. "Of course I love you," she mumbled, traces of weariness evident in her voice.

Without warning Jack scooped her up in his arms and she shrieked delightedly as he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. Gently he laid her on his bed and fell beside her, stroking at her strands of blonde hair, and he tenderly kissed her.

"But most of all," he murmured against her lips, moving his own mere inches away when he finished, "for not considering an abortion."

Though sadness penetrated her eyes once more, undoing almost all the cheering-up Jack had done, she said softly, "It was never an option in my mind, Jack. Never. I never even remembered abortions until Dad said…" her voice trailed off.

Jack kissed her again, and said, "He'll come around, honey."

"It'll only be worse when we tell him you're the father," Sam said shakily, on the verge of tears again.

Jack kissed the tears off her cheeks when they finally fell, tasting the bittersweet saltiness of them. "Does it help to know that I'm madly, insanely, head-over-heels in love with you?" he asked lightly with a smile.

Sam's silent, sob-filled shaking paused, and she gave him a wide, toothy smile (_Now THAT'S more like it!_ he thought, happy to get a big smile out of Sam). "Yes," she said, cuddling into him. "Yes, it helps so much. I love you more than I ever imagined possible." She looked up, and lifted her upper body so she could kiss him.

Jack didn't know which to be more impressed with, the way she held that position effortlessly and without support, or that KISS! It totally blew him away. She tasted so sweet, and he gave a low, throaty growl when she nipped his tongue.

When she ended the kiss, he groaned his disapproval. "Saaaaam," he whined, moving in to pull her lips _back_ to where he firmly believed they belonged. She ducked and evaded him, cleverly managing to straddle his hips in the process.

His eyes narrowed and he frowned playfully at her. "Very sneaky, Major," he said huskily, "but not sneaky enough!" With that, he flipped her over so their positions were reversed, and she gave a cross between a giggle and a growl. They ended up in a war for dominance before Jack's secret weapon insured his victory – he was one HOT man who was very talented with his lips…and his hands…mmm…

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Sam lay in Jack's arms for a good while afterwards. She shoved any negative, convicting thoughts out of her mind and sighed, reveling in his touch. Every once in a while he would lean over to kiss her hair, cheek…nose, lips, or to move a strand of hair from her eyes.

With one heaving sigh, she turned over and smiled at him, rubbing his muscular chest. "Hey," she said softly.

He grinned looping his arms around her waist. "Hey yourself."

She kissed him on the lips briefly, and said, "Think they're missing us yet?"

Jack groaned. "Way to spoil a mood," he grumbled, and he too sighed. "Yeah, probably."

Just then, the doorbell rang. Sam giggled at Jack's expression, which was less than pleased. Growling, he said, "Leave it. They'll go away soon enough," and guided her lips to his for another, more passionate kiss.

The person was persistent, and soon an orchestra of rings was flooding through the house, interrupting Sam's lustful sighs as Jack's kisses and caresses grew more intimate.

"Jack, just…" groan, "tell them to go…ahhh…mmm…"

Jack had to hide his smirk in her neck, nose inhaling the various scents of Samantha Carter. _If I'd known this could make her speechless, I would've done this years ago…_

This time the rings were accompanied by loud banging that one _might_ call "knocking" if it weren't disturbing the neighbors…which it most certainly would, Jack knew.

With another frustrated growl, Jack untwined himself from Sam reluctantly. "Don't move," he ordered, waggling his eyebrows, "I've got plans."

Sam giggled. "Aye, aye, sir!" she said, giving him a sloppy salute, and falling into fits of laughter at his mumbling and swearing as his footsteps grew softer and less audible.

She paused to listen carefully, and she giggled slightly when she heard him yell, "Don't you people have lives! I, for one, do! And you happen to be interrupting me while I'm _trying_ to ravish the woman I –" A door was opened, and she heard Jack's incredibly girlish squeak, at which she giggled for a minute before realizing what his next word was:

"_JACOB!_"

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Sam shot up into a sitting position with the words, "_Holy Hannah!_" running desperately in her mind.

Along with the words: _Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit._

Sam tried to calm down and analyze the situation.

Analysis:

She was at her CO's house.

She was at her CO's house _naked_.

She was at her CO's house naked after having _very _delicious…erm, she was getting off track here.

She was at her CO's house naked after sleeping with him after her father had a complete fit at her pregnancy.

She was at her CO's house naked after sleeping with him after her father had a fit after she GOT pregnant BY sleeping with him. (It _could_ still be Pete's, but she hated that speculation. She would have Janet do a test when she resigned, just to make sure, then talk to Jack about it if the child happened to be…Pete's.)

Said father was HERE as she was at her CO's house naked after sleeping with him after – well, you know the rest.

Sarcastically, Sam thought, _Yeah, Mom didn't give me any advice on how to fix THIS either. Hmm…to go out and approach the hungry lion, or NOT to go out and approach the hungry lion?_

She had to admit, the "NOT" option was mighty tempting…but no. She couldn't leave Jack to her father's mercies – mainly because he had few. She sighed; things had gotten better between them. Really, they had.

But there was nothing that violated regulations worse than sleeping with one's CO, not in the mind of Ret. General Jacob Carter.

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"You look surprised to see me," Jacob said, amused. He looked past Jack's shoulder, not surprised to find the man in a towel. "Sammie here?"

"W-what makes you think that?" Jack stammered.

Jacob raised an eyebrow at him. "When she's this upset, she usually goes to someone she trusts completely and totally, 100. She told me once you fall under that category. I believe her exact words were, 'Dad, you know how you've told me countless stories of good men you've been willing to go to hell and back for, that you'd follow to the ends of the world and back? He's one of them.'"

Jack began sporting a good blush, and Jacob smirked. "So, by your comment as you were approaching the door, I can assume Sam's not here?"

Jack was at total loss, not knowing what to say. So, he let Jacob ramble on, "Because I'd really like to apologize to her if I can find her. I…damn it I was scared for her. You know what it's like for women in the military."

"Not really. I happen to be pure male," Jack said wryly.

Jacob twirked another eyebrow. "Don't play fool, Jack," he said. "You know a woman can get some serious damage to her career like this. I mean, with all those pointless rumors going around, I'm surprised someone hasn't court marshaled and demoted her yet!" Jacob laughed.

"Rumors?" Jack said inquiringly, knowing exactly what Jacob meant and how close to the truth they were…

"You know, the ones that say you've been sleeping for years," Jacob said, his nose curling in disgust. "Oh, and that one that assumes Sam slept her way up the chain of command. The nerve!"

Jack remembered how pissed off he'd been when he caught two young female lieutenants whispering about that in the corner. He'd caught wind of it as he passed, and boy, those two had been about to pee their pants when he'd finished with his rant of rage. Carter earned every medal, every promotion, and her place on SG-1 fairly, with honor and dignity. She shouldn't have to hear that crap around base. He nodded angrily in agreement.

"Anyway, have you got any idea at all as to where she is?" Jacob asked, looking a little bit impatient, and worried.

"Well…"

Jack heard footsteps from behind, and he knew Sam was coming. Shit! Didn't she know it was her FATHER? She had to have heard! He was seriously considering turning around to rush back and stop her before Jacob saw her, but he knew he'd be too late, and didn't want his back turned when Jacob came after him.

The footsteps stopped and Jack watched Jacob's mouth open and close several times. He was waiting for the anger, for the hysteria, but it didn't come.

Jacob fainted.

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"Dad? Dad!" Sam said, shaking him. Jack had managed to catch him before he hit the ground, so they avoided injury, but Jacob wasn't responding.

Jacob's eyes opened and glowed with a hiss. "Samantha, O'Neill," Selmak said, "Jacob is in quite a shock. I do not understand why. He has suspected that something that there was something deeper between the two of you emotionally, so why would this surprise him now?"

Sam and Jack exchanged a look. "Well…" Jack said…

"…It's complicated," Sam summed. "I'm pregnant, and he's just caught me at my CO's house half naked." She looked down to the sweats and bra she'd thrown on. The sweats were a bit baggy, considering they belonged to Jack.

He smirked, looking her over shamelessly. His smirk and eyes seemed to say, "Those my sweats? Look _sooooo_ much better on you!" but he wisely chose not to repeat his thoughts aloud.

Selmak seemed to be pondering something. "Yes," he finally agreed, "that would do it. Shall I bring him forth?"

Jack looked to Sam quizzically. Smiling, she explained, "Let Dad talk."

"Oh! Yeah, better get to talkin' with him before he kills me," Jack said. When Sam shot him a look, he shrugged, and looked at Jacob/Selmak expectantly. Jacob's head dipped, and after a long pause, came up again.

"Someone…please," he said weakly. "Sammie? What's going on?"

Sam gave Jack a look. "I think I need to talk to Dad alone for a while."

Jack got the message. "Okay," he said, taking her hand momentarily and squeezing it. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

She smiled her thanks, and turned to Jacob.

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"So…the baby, it could be Jack's, or Pete's?" her father asked slowly, small, docile bits of anger in his eyes, but mostly concern. She nodded. "Sammie…I…"

He and Sam were sitting on Jack's couch, not cuddling, yet not at opposite ends. There needed to be comfortable space between them, but not a considerable distance.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Sam said honestly, touching the purplish bruise on his cheekbone, underneath his eye. "For, for all of this. I should've said no, but I don't regret it. I don't. Dad, I love him. Truly, honestly, and totally. Pete's a nice guy, but I'll never really love him the way he deserves to be loved. I also truly believe this baby is 100 percentpure Sam Carter and Jack O'Neill. The…the last time I was…_with_ Pete," she paused as Jacob shuddered – well, no man wanted to picture his daughter in intimacy with a man, right? – "was three months ago. I got the symptoms six weeks after Jack and I were…together." She blushed and Jacob whitened further.

"Just promise me you won't kill him," Sam whispered after a moment of silence.

"Of course I won't." Jacob sighed heavily. "I'm sorry too, Sam. I way overreacted earlier. _Way_ overreacted."

"Dad, you called me a slut!" The words were slightly harsher than she intended, and felt guilty when he winced.

"It did sound like that, didn't it?" he asked sadly. She nodded. "I…I know this sounds crazy, but I didn't mean to." Sam snorted, and he said, "Really, Sammie. I…your job is so dangerous. You've been captured so many times before, I was surprised…surprised that you haven't been…that none of those snakeheads have ever…"

Sam instantly realized what he meant. "You thought I'd been raped?" she asked incredulously. He nodded with big, sad eyes. Not puppy-dog eyes, but genuine sadness.

"I was…considering the possibility," he said sadly.

"But you said it so accusingly. So hatefully. 'You DO know who the father is, right?'" she mimicked.

Jacob winced again. "You know me when I get that…well…"

"Hysterical?" she supplied.

"Err…yeah. I say crazy things. What I mean to say with concern I say with spite; what I mean to say calmly I say snippily, lashing out."

"Yeah," Sam echoed, remembering the bouts her father and Mark had had all the time when Mom had died.

"Sam, can you forgive an old fool?" Jacob asked softly, gingerly touching her hand to see if she'd whip away. She didn't, and let him weave his fingers through hers, and he squeezed her hand.

A moment of pondering later, she squeezed back, looking him in the eyes. "First, I just want to ask: what the hell was with the abortion question? I can't believe you'd even think I would have one!"

Jacob's eyes were downcast, shamefully. "I didn't think you would," he said. "I really didn't. Just spouting off stuff again. I was…"

"I know what you were doing. You were demanding if I'd considered all my options, because for whatever reason, Dad, you find it your job to protect my career." He looked even more guilty, and she continued, "But Dad, it's not your career, it's _mine_. I spent all my adult life married to my career; isn't it time I was married to an actual person?"

Jacob choked. "W-what?" he stammered. "Marriage? You're marrying Jack!"

His voice was loud, and Sam knew that, when a loud thud came from down the hall, Jack had heard. He'd probably been listening the whole time, ready to do whatever he could to help. She paled.

"No, Dad. I should've worded it differently. We're not…getting married. But I fully plan to start a relationship –" She paused at her father's "get real" look. "– a _real_ relationship, the minute I'm no longer a major in the U.S. Air Force. And I mean _the minute_, right down to the last second." She dropped her voice lower, whispering very softly, "And I don't think I'd reject him if he proposed."

Jacob's jaw dropped, so she knew he heard her, but there was no way Jack could have. Sam didn't want him worrying, or feeling guilty, or anything. If something was going to blossom out of this, she wanted it to be a pure rose, not a weed tainted by misunderstandings or overly-cautiousness or anything negative. But, thankfully, Jacob didn't press the matter, so it wasn't brought up again.

Sam still was somewhat wary of his claim he'd thought she might've been raped, but then again, she probably always would be. He was her father, he obviously loved her, and, as she knew only too well, he _did_ manage to say things the wrong way when he was angered or flustered enough. She decided it would be best to give him the benefit of the doubt.

So she leaned over and hugged him close. "Of course I forgive you," she said as he hugged her back tightly.

When they came apart, they caught each other's eyes and smiled. Jacob's eyes were twinkling with…with love, pride, and affection.

Suddenly, the whole world seemed a whole lot brighter.


	18. Chapter 17

Mornings and Love Part 17

A few minutes later, Sam and Jacob hugged and kissed one last time before Jacob left for the base.

"I'd meant to surprise you," he said at the door, "but I can see you and Jack need some time to figure things out." He paused. "Did Jack _faint_ when I asked if you two were getting married?"

Sam snorted and smirked. "I don't know. He might have, and he might have not. Either way, he wouldn't have come rushing out. He doesn't want to know he's 'caught'." Her voice was soft, a whisper, but you could hear the smugness in it.

"Well, take care of yourself, Sammie," Jacob said. "And…I know I wasn't exactly hospitable earlier, but congratulations on the baby." He smiled awkwardly, and shifted as though he wasn't sure how she'd react.

Sam threw her arms around him and strangled him in a huge hug. "Thanks," she whispered. "That means a lot to me."

Jacob grinned from ear to ear, kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand, said goodbye, and after what felt like an eternity, he pried his fingers off her hand one by one, turned, and went to the taxi he'd called. He definitely looked back as he was driven off, watching his only daughter (plus one!) wave as he went, one hand at her mouth, looking like she was crying tears of happiness…

Which she was.

Sam watched him leave, sighed and wiped the last of the happy tears, and closed the door. "You can come out now," she called.

A moment passed and Jack hesitantly appeared from around the corner. She gave him a knowing smile, and he blushed. (_Ha! Tally of Jack Blushes – 3! I'm on a roll!_)

"Yeah, I heard…" he admitted sheepishly.

Sam's small smile exploded to a full-blown smirk. When he walked over to her, she rubbed his (still) naked chest and sighed. "You know Dad was wondering if you had fainted when he asked if we were marrying."

"FAINTED?" Jack exclaimed. "I do NOT faint!"

Sam sniggered. "M-hmm, I believe it. Don't worry, honey, I'll protect your big bad colonel image."

Jack groaned and dipped down to kiss her lips. "You know," he murmured, "I can think of better things you can do with that mouth." He pressed her body to his, and waggled his eyebrows in that adorable way she loved. "I mean, we _are_ alone, and I'd –"

Sam growled and kissed him. "Stop talking," she ordered against his mouth.

He answered with a comment like "yes, ma'am!" but she couldn't tell because it came out all jurgled and moaning.

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Beep beep! Beep beep!

"UGH!"

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Sam giggled. "Jack, you shouldn't have smashed your cell phone. What if it was…oh! ummm…mmm…what was I…uh…saying?"

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Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep!

"NOT GONNA HAPPEN!"

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"Jack! I _cannot BELIEVE you smashed MY cell phone!_" she frowned. "It could have been important!"

When he licked her sensitive spot, she gasped. "Erm, uh…oh…" He nudged her in the direction of the bedroom, and she grinned, grabbing his hands and tugging him toward it.

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B-b-b-beep! B-b-b-beep!

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"Touch my pager and I'll hurt you."

Jack paused. "You're serious?"

"That's an expensive pager, Jack. And if you break it, I can't give you the number." She pouted.

_Oh my god, she's _pouting!_ She's actually _pouting!

There was no way he could touch her pager and live – or, at the very least, there was no way he could touch her pager without consequences he might not be able to live with. Like not being able to kiss her. Or touch her. Or even ogle her!

Jack sighed. The damned pager was safe.

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Sam untangled herself from him and checked her pager. Eyes widening, she squealed.

Jack's head shot up. _Huh?_ "I thought you only squealed when I –" he started.

She flung some clothes at him and started rummaging for hers. "Jack, it's the SGC!" she said excitedly. "It's General Hammond! He might have an answer!"

He stared dumbly at her before shaking his head and grinning. "_That's _what you're squealing about?" he complained. "No fair." He pouted.

She sighed and kissed his cheek. "By the way, pouting doesn't work for me," she said over her shoulder as she dressed.


	19. Chapter 18

Mornings and Love Part 18

"I'm pleased to inform you that the Pentagon has approved your request and has accepted your resignation," General Hammond said with a large grin. He took the forms that'd been faxed over and added his signature. "As of now, you are no longer an officer in the U.S. Air Force."

"That's great!" Sam exclaimed, throwing her arms around Jack with a girlish squeal. She froze a moment later, then jumped back, straightening immediately. She gave a sheepish smile to Hammond and Jack, who were both grinning like idiots.

Jack growled, "Hey, get back here!" and pulled her back to him. She closed her eyes and sighed into his warmth, the warmth of the man she was _finally_, _finally_, _officially_ allowed to love.

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"Janet?"

The petite doctor looked up and smiled. "Sam, congratulations!" she exclaimed, rushing over to hug her friend. "General Hammond just called me to share the news! So NOW are you going to tell me?" she demanded with a goofy "or else" grin.

Sam smiled weakly. "About that…I need to know; how far along am I?"

Janet paused. "Sam?"

"Jan!" Sam whined. She hated to stoop to using the tone of a cranky five year old, but she blamed it fully on the hormones.

"I'll go get the folder, okay?"

Sam nodded.

"I'll be right back."

As the doctor walked away, her heels clicking even as she turned the corner, Sam jumped on a bed and swung her legs back and forth as though she were on a swing.

A few minutes later, Janet returned carrying a huge, overstuffed folder. "Yours was the easiest to find," Janet said, removing the rubber band she had to use to keep Sam's folder from exploding, "yours and all of SG-1's, that is."

Sam gave a half-hearted half-smile, and Janet shifted through several papers before exclaiming, "Aha!" and whipping out a couple of stapled sheets.

"Well," she said, skimming the sheets, "you're about six and a half weeks along by now."

Sam's body shuddered with relief, all her nervous energy zapped out of her with those eleven words.

Six and a half weeks. Jack. Jack was the father, just as she'd assumed, hoped, and dreamed. She wasn't going to be tied to Pete in any way anymore. She was completely, totally free of guilt and suspicion, and now she could live her life with Jack and their child without worrying about her ex-fiancé.

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes in all the glory that was "miracle".


	20. Chapter 19

Mornings and Love Part 19

Sam's clothes were starting to get too tight, so a few days later she ventured into the wild unknowns of the baby stores.

The first place she visited was the Baby Emporium, just to see what was out there. Everything took her by surprise, even though it normally wouldn't. The clothes ranged from itty bitty baby socks to maternity pants the size of clown suit bottoms. And there were so many toys! Books, puzzles, dolls, you name it. Mechanical swings, rocking chairs, cribs…

"Seems like the one thing they DON'T have is a buy-a-baby section," Sam murmured, and a woman next to her snickered, covering her mouth and shaking with laughter. Another woman shot Sam a disgusted look and walked away. Sam looked at the laughing woman and she shrugged. Sam shrugged, too.

"Who put a stick up her butt?" Sam said under her breath to the woman.

"Her ex-husband," the woman replied. "I was talking to her earlier. The jerk's also the father."

Sam winced. "Ouch," she said thoughtfully. _And to think I might've been in the exact same position…_

"Oh, I'm sorry?" the woman said. Sam shot her a puzzled look. "You – erm, said you were in the exact same position…?"

"Oh!" Oh! "No, I was almost, though. I got lucky. My baby's got a great dad," she said fondly, rubbing her belly, which was starting to stick out just a smudge. "I can honestly and happily say my ex-boyfriend wasn't…REALLY a bad man. Not totally. He was the puppy dog wannabe though."

"Oh, I get it. Lemme guess, came around four or five times after your breakup to plead for a second chance?"

"Something like that," Sam said. She suddenly felt somewhat uncomfortable. "I – I've got to go. Nice talking to you." She smiled at her.

The woman smiled back. "Yeah, nice talking to you too. See you later…?"

"Maybe," Sam agreed, and put back the maternity info books and left.

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Sam was in another baby shop in the local mall half an hour later, admiring the tiny baby clothes. She was just wondering what gender her baby was when she heard a sickeningly familiar voice.

"Sam!"

Sam whirled around to see Pete hurry into the store. Outside she saw a very frustrated, flustered woman stare at him angrily as people passed around her. Ends clicked in Sam's mind and she realized Pete had moved on from her – until seeing her in the store, that was.

Pete came to a halt a few feet in front of her. "Sam, why are you…?" He gestured around the baby store.

She swallowed past a lump in her throat, and she slowly put back the toddler dress she'd been looking at, and walked toward the maternity section, knowing Pete would follow.

He did.

"I'm here," she said, "because I need bigger pants." True. Her shirts were still stretchy enough, though she may need bigger bras soon…

"You're…you're…?" he said, resembling a goldfish. She nodded, and watched a large grin spread across his face.

_OH no. Please tell me he doesn't think…_

"That's great! When's he due? Gosh, why didn't you –"

_Of course he thinks the baby's his._

"Wait, I know why you didn't tell me."

THAT stopped her in her tracks. "You do?" she asked slowly.

He smiled and put his hands on her shoulders. "Babe, you don't have to feel ashamed that you dumped me," he said in a sickly-soothing voice. "That's all in our past, now."

_Grief…_ Mom's Rules on Relationships # –

Wait. Her mom didn't give her any advice on how to tell her ex-boyfriend her baby wasn't his.

And there was no Jack this time, either. No Jack to pry Pete's hands off her and curl his hands comfortingly on her shoulders instead. No Jack to whisper in her ear when she felt horrible for hurting Pete. No Jack to kiss her neck and tell her he loved her.

She was going to have to tell Pete on her own.

"Pete," she began, shrugging his hands off her shoulders. Huh. Those hands were solid on her shoulders still. Not cool. She grasped his wrists and pulled. No dice. "Pete!" she said, frustrated. "Get your hands off. Now."

Startled, Pete slowly removed them.

Sam smiled to try and calm down, though she knew she was looking flustered. She _felt_ flustered. "Pete, there's no good way to tell you this, but the baby – the baby isn't yours."

He laughed. "Of course it –" He paused. "Wait, say what?"

"The baby isn't yours," she repeated.

Pete stared at her. "That can't be," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

"Pete, you're lying to yourself. It's possible, and it IS. I'm with the father and I'm so incredibly happy. It looks like you had moved on," she glanced outside the window at the angry woman, still standing there, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. _Though that too may be over sooner than he thinks, _she thought, noting the woman's dark glare. "Go back to her," Sam said quietly. "There's nothing for you with me."

With that, Sam walked past Pete and out of the store.

"Hey!"

Sam turned to see the woman coming toward her. The angry look was replaced by a look of sadness.

"Look, it's probably none of my business, but what's going on here?" the woman asked softly. Pete was staring at the two women from the store's entrance.

Sam looked from Pete to the woman. "Just a little misunderstanding," Sam said softly. "There's nothing going on between him and me."

"How can I know that for sure?" the woman – _whimpered._

Sam leaned in and whispered, "Because I'm in love with a man who's the greatest guy I've ever met. And it's not him."

The woman looked at her for a few minutes then nodded. "Okay."

"I'm sorry about this. I hope you two are happy together," Sam said, smiling, and she left. There was only one person she wanted to be with right now.

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When she pulled into Jack's driveway she saw smoke coming from the backyard. Grinning and unworried, she got out of the car and hurried to the gate.

"Hey Jack," she said, grinning and watching the love of her life burn meat.

Jack saw her and put down the fork and beer bottle and rushed to engulf her in a giant hug.

"Sam," he murmured against her neck.

She sighed and felt purrs of happiness erupt in her throat. "Thank you," she whispered.

Her purrs turned to whimpers of want and desire as he trailed kisses and licked up and down her neck, nipping at her throat and ear. "For what?" he mumbled.

"Got a couple 'o hours?" she asked, a smirk twitching at her mouth.

He groaned. "Saaaaam," he said whiningly.

She kissed him soundly. "For being you."

Jack squeezed her. "I could go for that," he whispered.

Sam felt troubled; she didn't want to tell him about her encounter with Pete, but it felt almost…disloyal not to. "Jack," she said, "I – I have something I want to tell you."

He regarded her for a moment, then said, "C'mon, we'll go inside," and led her into his house.

Sam had only been in his house a few times before. It was neat and tidy, just as she'd always known it would be. Jack led her to the living room and they sat on one of the couches. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, waiting until she was ready to say whatever it was she needed to say.

"I…I saw Pete today," she finally confessed.

Jack froze; "And?" he prompted, somewhat worriedly.

"I was in a baby store. He – he figured out that I'm pregnant and thought the baby was his."

It seemed like an eternity before Jack spoke again: "There's a chance of that?" he asked coolly, barely masking growing hurt and anger.

"There was," she whispered. Jack stood from the couch, almost throwing her on the floor in the process, and paced, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jack, I'm sorry," Sam all but sobbed.

The sadness in her voice seemed to bring Jack out of his anger. He murmured, "Sam…" and swooped down beside her again, cradling her in his arms. When the tears subsided, she sniffed.

"I blame the hormones," she said hoarsely.

He smiled softly and handed her a tissue. She took it warily. "Hey, it's clean!" he protested with a wry grin. She laughed and dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose.

"How'd he take it when you told him the baby wasn't his?" Jack asked.

Sam laughed bitterly. "Forget the kicked puppy look," she said, "try puppy run over by a two-ton truck."

Jack squeezed her. "Hey," he said, touching his lips to hers, "it's going to be okay. Pete knows. Hammond knows. We're allowed to be together. I don't think there's going to be any more bombshells for a while."

She sighed her agreement and pulled his lips back to hers for a deepened kiss. When the kiss ended, he grinned goofily. "Is it time for a little celebration?" he asked suggestively, waggling his eyebrows and eyeing her belt.

Sam laughed and slapped him playfully. "Maybe," she said lifting herself off the couch and pulling away from him teasingly, swaying her hips to add to his torment.

He growled and tugged her back for another kiss.

_Mmm…that never gets old,_ she thought happily.


	21. Chapter 20

Ack! Sorry it took soooo long to update :) I'm an evil author, aren't I? Well, enjoy!

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Sam awoke one Saturday morning to find an empty bed. Jack's empty bed.

She wasn't sure when the transaction had started, but she was very nearly "moved into" Jack's house. She smiled, remembering when, last night, she had commented on it, he'd said, "You're in my heart _and_ my home; that's pretty sweet!" and kissed her. That had sent happiness rippling through her heart and soul.

She had Jack, a new position as head _civilian_ scientist of the SGC, and she was three months pregnant and on maternity leave. She missed SG-1, the action, adventure, and even sometimes the plain ole meet-n-greet missions. At first she chastised herself for wanting more of it, but eventually she decided that it was perfectly healthy to miss her old job.

On Jack's bedside table was a note:

_Sam –_

_Why didn't you just wake me up? I wouldn't have minded going to the grocery store at 0300 – but what on EARTH are you feeding our baby! Gravy, tomatoes, pickles, and German chocolate cake? D'oh! Junior has a wacky appetite, you know that?_

_Be back soon._

_Love, _

_Jack._

Sam giggled; if only he'd known about her chocolate/fruit/peanut butter excursion…

As she got up and went into the kitchen, she heard the door swing open suddenly and she whirled around, sighing when it was only Jack.

"You scared me!" she complained, putting one hand against her beating heart and the other protectively over her stomach, which was slowly poking out.

Jack smirked. "Did I, now?" He put down the few plastic bags he was carrying and kneeled down in front of her, rubbing and dropping a kiss onto the small mound that was their baby. "Did I scare you, too?" he asked their baby teasingly, his smirk widening when he heard Sam groan. "Did I scare you, Junior?"

"Do _not_ call her Junior," she said, shuddering as she pictured the midwives handing her a Gou'ald larva in place of a human baby.

"Why?" He pouted playfully before standing up.

"Do you _want_ our baby to grow up thinking she's a snakehead?" Sam asked pointedly, thinking of Teal'c's larva Gou'ald.

Jack shuddered, making "blech!" noises on his way to the kitchen. She followed, giggling. "No," he admitted. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head at her curiously. "What makes you so sure our baby's a 'she'?" he asked.

Sam rummaged through the bags before delightedly finding the jar of pickles. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully, plunging a pickle into her mouth and chewing. She swallowed and said, "I guess I just always imagined myself with a daughter." Abruptly, she put the jar down and grabbed one of his hands, guiding it to the curve of her belly. "_Your_ daughter," she corrected softly. "_Our_ daughter."

Jack blinked, and a gentle, truly genuine smile bloomed slowly on his face. Sam thought she saw his eyes water for a moment before he tugged her into a fierce hug.

"I am," he breathed, "the luckiest man on earth."

"Just earth?" she teased, giving him a squeeze and kissing his neck.

He laughed. "Earth, Pluto, Chulak, the galaxy – the _universe_!" he exclaimed, squeezing her back.

"Mmm…" she sighed. They cuddled in each other's arms for a moment, then Sam had to ask, "Jack, do you want another son?"

"Son, daughter – I just want a healthy baby. But mostly, I want you." Jack pulled back and kissed her on the nose. "And as long as he or she has ten fingers and ten toes, no glowing eyes," he paused as she giggled at that, "and a perfectly normal human voice, I'll be the universe's luckiest, happiest man." And he dropped a light kiss to her lips, pulling back to hear her response.

Sam sighed and pecked him on the lips back. "Then I'll be the universe's luckiest, happiest woman," she said, her smile bright and toothy.

"Have you thought of any names?" he asked her. He was lightly playing with a strand of her hair. "Your hair's getting longer," he commented.

"A few," she said nervously. She hoped he liked them, or that at the least he didn't think them ridiculous for an O'Neill baby. _A Carter baby, too,_ her conscience reminded her gently.

"Like?" he prompted.

Sam took a deep breath. "Well, for a girl I thought maybe…Elena?"

"Elena," he repeated, tasting it with his lips. He smiled. "I like it!" he grinned. "What about a boy name?"

"I have two I really like," she said. "Adam and Gale."

"Umm…" Jack said with a small frown, "I'm not sure about Adam, but I do like Gale."

Sam smiled contently; at least he'd liked the two. She wasn't sure what she would've said if he'd hated all three. "What are your ideas?" she asked.

"I was thinking, for a girl, Gwendolyn or Irene."

Sam smiled. "Gwen," she compromised. He nodded. "Shouldn't we be writing these down?" she asked.

"Sure." he snatched an old grocery list from her magnet refrigerator pad and turned it over, snatching the pen that went with it at the same time. "Let's see," he said as he wrote, "We have Elena, Gwen, and – Irene?" he asked, looking to her for confirmation. She nodded and he scribbled .it down. "What about Jacob?" he asked nonchalantly as she chewed on her pickles after dipping them in the gravy.

Sam shook her head.

"Really?" he said, surprised.

She tilted her head and swallowed. "You thought I'd want to name our baby Jacob?" she asked.

"Erm…yeah, kinda…"

"Jack, as pleased and honored as Dad would be, I don't want to name our baby after people we know, people we're close to."

"Too confusing?" he asked, his voice tattling that he was beginning to agree.

"And rather unoriginal. I mean, there's nothing _wrong_ with the names Janet, Jacob, Daniel, etc, but…"

Jack nodded, and she could tell by the look in his eye that he genuinely agreed with her. She sighed and smiled gratefully.

"Does that mean 'Siler' is out?" he asked.

Sam giggled. "Jack!"

"Or what about Georgette?"

Sam's eyes popped out of her head and she didn't know if she should squeal or groan, so her exasperation took form as both. "_Jack_!"

"Or how about Teal'c'ana?"

Sam groaned lowly. "Jack!" she threatened, her "I'm a Major in the U.S. Air Force and I know a hundred different ways to kick your ass" look dampened by the grin she was wearing.

"How about Hathor?" he grinned, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease her.

"That's it!" she shouted, throwing down her pickle. She lunged at him, attacking all his tickle spots with a vengeance. Soon they laughed so hard they sank to the floor, Sam on top of Jack, still continuing her tickle fest.

Suddenly, she was flipped over and found herself on the floor, Jack tickling her with equal vengeance. And to make sure she couldn't escape, he straddled her hips and pinned her arms above her head with one hand, the other fiercely tickling her everywhere; yet he was very mindful of the extra belly their child was giving her, and steered around it every time. That belly protected a very tempting tickle spot, the one that would make her shriek louder than any other spot, but, _sigh_, the sacrifices he would make for his unborn son – or daughter…

Meanwhile, he continued his list of outrageous names, a smirk on his lips. "How does Teal'c'ie Junior sound? Oh, wait, I like Yu Two!"

Sam howled with laughter, her attempt to rip free from his tickling grasp stopped. "No, Jack!" she pleaded, tears coming to her eyes as her body racked with the laughter.

"Jacqueline Yu O'Neill? Danielle Anise O'Neill? NO, I know!" he shouted, leaping to his feet triumphantly, and he exclaimed:

"_THORLA!_"


	22. Chapter 21

One evening a few days later, a very chastised Sam sat on the couch. "Jack, I'm perfectly capable," she started to argue.

"Ah! I'm up already, you sit. I'll be back in a minute. Stay there, I've got plans," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Any other time, that adorable act would've melted her irritation in a split second. But today her hormones and emotions were especially out of whack, and the waggling of his eyebrows did not amuse her as he went to phone for pizza.

Samantha Carter was perfectly capable and willing to order pizza. "I'm pregnant, not invalid," she mumbled, wishing she had the courage or the will to break their blissfulness to tell it to his face.

Jack walked back a few moments later, swooping in to kiss her cheek, then her lips, as he sat, teasing her lips open. She reluctantly submitted, allowing him to kiss her as deeply as he liked. It was nice, but it didn't ignite any fires in her. She was a little too irritated for that, and the growing worry that he'd continue on like this with more intensity effectively put her animalistic sexual desires on hold, promising that they'd stay that way for a while.

He seemed to realize she wasn't exactly responding the way she usually did, and he stopped, confused, to look into her eyes. "What's up, Sam?"

Sam hesitated, then allowed for a weak smile to grace her lips. "Nothing," she lied. "I'm just not really in the mood."

Jack tilted his head at her curiously. "Alright," he agreed automatically. His eyes dropped to her belly, and he rubbed it fondly. He looked back to her. "Up to cuddling?" he offered.

That touched her and she gave him a genuine smile. She nodded, and he slid his arms around her, guiding her head to his chest. Sam snuggled closer to him. While his left arm was slung snugly around her shoulders, his right hand still caressed her belly. The warmth his hand gave her felt very good, and her left hand dropped to her belly to join it. Their hands laid there, fingers tangled, protectively and lovingly guarding the precious life that had really pushed them together.

Sam closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck, sighing contently. Maybe she was just overreacting.


	23. Chapter 22

Mornings and Love Part 22

Sam waddled down the halls of the SGC, beaming at the sight of the usually gray, bland halls. It was wonderful to be "home"!

"Hey, Sam!" Daniel greeted eagerly when she entered his office. "Does Jack know you're on base?" he asked, looking suddenly suspicious.

"No, and if you tell him I'm gonna have to hurt you," she said through her smile, her mood not dampened.

To say that Jack was a bit overprotective of his pregnant girlfriend would be an understatement. Sam had now an official bedtime, a diet dictation (three square meals a day, and if Jack didn't see dirty dishes he'd be extremely peeved), had her laptop confiscated, and when Jack was home from missions, she wasn't to cook or lift one single finger. And if he saw the house (both hers and his) freshly cleaned, he would go into a frenzy of sighs and pleads not to work herself to the ground.

Daniel winced. "He can't be that bad," he said gently.

Sam sighed. "I'm taking the fifth on that one," she said grimly. And she was; not a peep was to get out about her irritation unless it was said to Jack specifically. There were to be no rumors, especially not on her first friendly visit to the SGC after three weeks of maternity leave. Sam couldn't handle not being in the atmosphere for much longer; simply being at the SGC was a joy. She belonged here; it was her _home_.

She was just surprised Jack hadn't taken away her clearance to get on base.

"I'm going to stop by my lab then visit Teal'c," she decided aloud suddenly. Daniel looked up with his eyebrows raised.

He had an uneasy look on his face.

Oh no. "Oh no, please, Daniel, tell me he DIDN'T…" she moaned, briskly walking to the elevator.

When she got to her lab, she found a note taped to the blast door.

_Sam –_

_Don't even think about it._

_Love,_

_Jack._

Crushing the frail paper in her hand, she swiped her card into the slot. It beeped, and…nothing. She tried it again. And again.

And again.

"I can't BELIEVE he locked me out of my own LAB!" she yowled angrily. She stomped off to see Teal'c. Maybe she could convince him to seriously maim O'Neill for her…

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"I do not understand the nature of your request, Major Carter," Teal'c stated as he lifted a 200-pound weight with the ease of a superhuman (aka Jaffa).

Okay, so she had let her anger simmer long enough to convince her to ask Teal'c to simply talk to Jack, not hurt him. "He's not going to listen to me," she said calmly, "and I wouldn't want Daniel to go through the torture. Daniel's always playing peacemaker, and let's face it, it infuriates him the way Jack blows him off."

"Would he not pay your concerns the respect and attentions they desire," he asked, confused, "as you are the mother of his unborn child?"

Sam envisioned herself asking him to lay off, and pictured him laughing, patting her shoulder, and telling her to trust him, that everything would be alright. As though she were a small child that didn't know how to take care of herself.

"Teal'c, I am not a little kid. I can take care of myself. Do you disagree?" she asked, plopping down on one of the weight machine seats, tired.

"I do not. You are a very capable warrior, and as such I believe you to be very capable of mere health matters."

"Then why can't he see that?" she groaned, burying her face in her hands, frustrated beyond belief.

"Perhaps he does indeed see it, but wishes to provide you with the opportunity to enjoy your many months of leave as much as possible," Teal'c suggested.

Sam sighed. "Maybe." It sounded probable, but didn't Jack realize that by limiting her he was driving her crazy? "Alright, I'll talk to him," she gave in, glaring at Teal'c.

Teal'c smiled smugly, as he convinced her to converse with O'Neill herself without actually saying so.

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"Sam, here you are!" Jack exclaimed as he opened her front door with his key.

_Gee, I'm at my house. What a shock,_ Sam thought bitterly, then chastised herself. She had to make an effort to be civil and understanding, despite the spike in hormonal differences and her growing irritation. She was unbelievingly, totally, completely, head-over-heels in love with him, and planned to stay that way. "Yeah, here I am," she agreed awkwardly as he kissed her on the cheek, rubbing her belly fondly.

"I thought you'd be at my place," he said.

Sam shrugged. "Want some coffee?" she asked, immensely glad that that wasn't one of the beverage/food items her weird cravings prohibited.

"Sure," Jack agreed.

"Okay, I'll make some," she said quickly, moving towards the kitchen.

"Oh, no you don't!" he said, swinging her back around to face him. He kissed her again with one smooth movement, and she frowned. When he stopped the kiss, he pulled back and gave her a coy smile. "_I'll_ make the coffee," he said, shaking a finger at her.

While his grin would have normally made her giggle or blush, or provoked some loving feeling in her, it further increased her irritation. The finger shaking just flat pissed her off. "I think we need to talk about this," she said demandingly as she followed him into the kitchen.

Jack began fixing the coffee. "About what, Sam?" he asked nonchalantly.

"_This!_" she exclaimed, waving her hand between the two of them to emphasize. "I…I think you're being a little unfair," she declared firmly. That was about as lightly as she was ever going to put it, but she was trying to be civil and calm for their relationship's sake.

"About what?" he asked, turning and frowning at her, looking bewildered.

Sam sighed. "One word," she said. "'Bedtime'. I'm a grown woman, Jack, I don't need one!"

Now Jack sighed. "I just want to make sure you're getting the healthy amount of sleep!" he said.

"1700, Jack? I didn't go to bed 'lights out' at 1700 when I was a kid!" Sam bit her lip, trying desperately to get her emotions under control. "I just want a little space," she whispered.

Her soft, vulnerable-sounding voice must've caught his attention. He moved toward her and stroked her cheek, worry still etched across his face. "I'm listening," he whispered back.

Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The bedtime goes," she said firmly. "I'd like for you to stop obsessing over what I eat, too. When I'm hungry, I'll eat, and you can bet I'll eat healthy meals. I _like_ healthy food, remember?"

"You're eating for two now!" he protested. "You need three square meals a day and if I don't watch what you're eating, you'll get so engrossed in some doohickey that you forget to eat!"

"Which brings me to my third…request," she said, wisely avoiding "demand", though it was exactly that. "You locked me out of my lab." She couldn't disguise her anger this time; her voice sounded low and deadly, even to her.

"I just want you to relax," Jack said softly.

"Jack, I wanted so much not to have this argument with you, but the truth is, it's driving me crazy! Jack…" She sighed and took one of his hands in hers, stroking it softly and squeezing it hard, willing her action to translate her _need_ to him. "I feel caged," she confessed.

She saw pain flash in his eyes and instantly wished she'd worded it better. He hastily untangled his fingers from hers and walked past her. "Right. Sorry," was all he said before the door shut loudly, leaving her an empty house and an empty heart.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, despite how hard she fought them. "I tried," she whispered to the silent air. "I tried! I was calm and collected; I don't understand! I _don't understand!_"

Sam was openly sobbing by now. "Why?" she demanded as she looked up at the ceiling. "_Why_? Why does it keep happening to me! It's not my fault! _Damn it, do you hear me! It's NOT MY FAULT!_"

She sobbed there, in the kitchen, for many more minutes before her sobbing subsided. She wiped her eyes several times and looked around, sniffing. The house was still empty. Was…was that a breakup? The thought sent her into tears again, and she went upstairs to cry comfortably, on her large, lazy bed.

What would she do if he didn't want her anymore? What about their child? Tears cascaded faster and harder as she pondered. The brand-new Kleenex box was half empty after an hour of pondering.

Jack couldn't have dumped her. She was the mother of his unborn child. He loved her, didn't he?

…

Didn't he?

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Oh, dear :( Those two never stop, do they? Didn't I title this "Mornings and Love"? reviews title …Hmm…Well, rest assured, Jack's gonna get off his high horse sooner or later…Sam hopes… evil, smug grin


	24. Chapter 23

Mornings and Love Part 23

Sam's eyes flittered open. Pure darkness surrounded her, but after a moment, the pitch black faded to the dull grey of night, the room surrounding her easily visible through the dimness. She looked over and frowned at the clock: 0100.

So this was why Jack insisted on a constant bedtime – go to bed too late and your body clock gets thrown into laziness, waking up late, etc. Go to bed five after crying fits and she might find herself waking up at 0100 – oh, wait, she already DID…

Sam sighed and threw back the covers. She winced as she sat up. Eck. She'd slept in her maternity-sized jeans, tee-shirt, and new, larger bra. She felt sore all over, especially her breasts, from when she'd slept on her stomach. Sore and smelly. A long, hot shower was most definitely in order.

The hot water was heaven on her muscles, and she stayed under that blissfulness for a long time, coaxing shampoo and conditioner into her hair, smoothing a soapy washcloth over her body. She could fall asleep right there, under the pure, wonderful water.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. Sam turned off the water and reached for her large, white bath towel, wrapping it around her pale form. She walked briskly into her bedroom and glanced at the clock fleetingly as she dressed: 0140.

Sam checked herself over in the mirror several times. She sighed and changed blouses three times, her pants two times. Finally deciding there was no such thing as a "please forgive me, I love you so, SO much" outfit, she said, "To hell with it!" and threw on her slippers. They were fluffy blue slippers – daintiness was not a necessity for these slippers. They were pure comfort, absolutely wonderful. Jack might find it a little weird, or even amusing (assuming she got past the front door), but she didn't think he'd mind.

God, she hoped she was doing the right thing. She drove over to Jack's house slowly, abiding by the traffic laws and staying at the appropriate speed limit. What would speeding matter? Besides, it would be just her luck that it would be Pete pulling her over, should she go on and speed, and get caught. That was something she really didn't need.

She could picture it now: "Umm…sir, I'm kinda in jail, can you bail me out?" instead of the, "Jack, I'm so sorry. I had no right to be so angry, frustrated," she was planning. Of course, no self-respecting cop would arrest her for speeding unless she killed someone, but the imagery made her laugh.

It also made her nervous…

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Sam rang the doorbell several times before she heard Jack's voice snap, "Hold your fricikin' bladder!" Uh-oh. That was definitely his SO Way Not Amused voice. _Well, what did you expect, you're waking the man up at… 0200, now,_ her conscience snapped irritably. Sheesh, everyone was angry with her.

The door swung open. "What?" Jack demanded, expression not instantly growing soft and concerned as she'd imagined it doing so when he saw her.

"Jack…" She hesitated, not knowing how to begin.

"Yeah, that's my name. What do you _want_, Carter?" he sneered, slurring his words. He swayed a bit, face leering and obviously drunk.

It was like a slap in the face for her, but then, should she expect any better? Did she _deserve_ any better? Hell, did she even deserve a great man like _him_?

"I want to apologize," she said softly. "Can I come in?" she added hopefully a minute later.

"I don't think so. You want consolation? Fine, apology accepted. You don't want me in your life, and I don't want you in mine. So get lost."

Sam froze, her eyes wide. "J-Jack?" she asked, stammering.

"You heard me!" Jack roared, causing her to jump. "Get out of here!"

"Please, Jack…" she all but whimpered.

"What more do you want from me, woman?" he snarled, grabbing her shoulder and squeezing it, hard – not one of those loving squeezes, but a vicious clutch.

Sam didn't know what to say next, so she stayed silent, trying to stop her arm from trembling under his touch. This was Jack, after all! He wouldn't really hurt her, would he? _No_, she told herself firmly, believing it 100 percent. She would trust him with her life, her heart.

Angrily, Jack thrust her away from him, dropping her forearm like a hot brick. "Go ahead, scamper off like we both know you want to," he snapped.

She took a deep breath, and said, "No." It was spoken softly, and for a moment she wondered if he'd heard, then she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"_What?_" His voice was dangerously low.

Sam emboldened herself enough to look defiantly into his eyes. "I've run away from you once before, Jack," she said calmly. "I love you too much to run away again."

He was drunk; she'd probably have more success when he cooled off and became somber, but she wasn't going to leave unless he forcibly removed her. She hoped it didn't come to that.

"You pushed me away," he accused.

"I didn't mean to!" she said, somewhat defensively.

Jack growled and stepped out, grabbing her arm again and dragging her down the sidewalk. "You don't want to leave? Fine, I'll make you." He staggered several times as he led her; she knew he was in no condition to _make_ her do _anything_. But she went, sadly.

When he got them to her car, he thrust her clumsily against it. Sam gasped; while the impact didn't hurt, caught by her arms against the curve of the roof, it still shocked her that he'd do that.

_But he's not exactly himself tonight, is he?_ her conscience asked pointedly. _He's so drunk, he probably won't know what happened in the morning_.

Jack was staggering back to the house, cutting across the lawn, slamming the door behind him. Sam swallowed back the tears as she watched him go, then began the drive to her house.

She wouldn't give up, though. Her conscience pointed out a valid thought. Jack was wasted; he would be saying stupid stuff. Hurtful, yes, but maybe there was a chance…a chance he did love her and want her. Maybe.

_If tomorrow's soberness brings Jack back to me,_ she thought, _this baby girl's middle name is going to be "Hope"._


	25. Chapter 24

Mornings and Love Part 24

Sam never saw a greyer morning. Cliché, but true. Everything felt dull. Even the songbirds that usually stayed in her backyard left, as though they too couldn't stand her presence any longer.

She sat at the kitchen table, looking out at her backyard garden through the windows. The bright colorfulness of the various flowers mocked her. The steaming coffee mug she held in her hand cooled to a simmer very quickly, and the hot coffee she'd drank sat at the bottom of her stomach, warming and chilling her insides. A lovely purple bruise was blooming across her upper left arm, marking her shame…

Did something so horrible always effect her like this?

Sam sighed. "Maybe I am cursed," she muttered. How many men had she pushed away that liked her? Easy: Hansen (although he deserved it, the bastard), Pete (well, he _did_ stalk her…and he'd called her a slut, for crying out loud!), and now, Jack… She didn't quite know if it was her fault or his.

But mostly hers.

_Wait a minute,_ she thought suddenly, sitting up, a flare of…strength, rippling through her. "I am not at fault," she said aloud, firmly, and dared any invisible aliens who might be lurking in the house to disagree. "It's time to acknowledge that it might not _be_ anyone's fault. After all, I had a problem so I confronted him calmly about it, as an adult should. Then I went to him again, to try and be the bigger man – woman, so to speak. It's not _my_ fault he went and got so drunk he could barely walk."

Feeling much more satisfied with her situation, Sam got up off the pity-potty and went out to the local hardware/gardening store. Though her guilt was not totally vanquished, she decided that cheering up that one bare corner of the garden was just what she needed to cheer herself up, too. Briefly thinking about her bike in the garage, she thought against riding it, or even working on it today.

Jack was right; she _did_ need to relax. But she needed to relax her way, and gardening she liked. She liked it a lot.

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After buying four rosebushes, fertilizer, and some special "food" for them, and of course tiny picket fences for each of them, Sam drove home, humming happily. She didn't even go into the house; she entered her backyard through the garage and got a shovel from the shed.

Studying the corner fondly, she chose three of the rosebushes to put back there, in a triangle. Placing those yellow roses there (they had tints of red at the edges), she took the fourth, a pale pink, to work on in the front yard first.

Sam found a patch of dirt along the sidewalk up to the doorway and got to work digging the appropriate size hole. She huffed as she did it, as she wasn't used to the work anymore. But they were good huffs, not frustrated, angry huffs. As weird as it was, she missed work. Work like this didn't feel like work. It was nice, calming. She suddenly felt much more positive about facing Jack again, which she knew she would. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon.

She would just let the hangover and leftover drunkenness escape his body, first. Sam had to admit that, although she loved him with all her heart whether he was drunk or sober, that she liked him a hell of a lot more when he was sober.

Finally she was finished, and she wiped her sweaty brow before putting the shovel against the wall. She took the rosebush and, grateful that it was just a baby plant and not huge like they could grow to be, she took off the plastic container that held the dirt in place. She lowered the plant into the ground and sprinkled the fertilizer around it until the hole was filled and a mound very much the size of her belly surrounded the stem.

Sam wiped her brow again and stood back to admire her work. Proudly she fondled a bud that hadn't yet bloomed, then went out into the backyard to plant her other roses.

She'd just finished up about forty minutes later at 1130 when a buzzing in her pocket made her jump. Surprised, she realized it was just her phone. Oh.

"Carter," she answered automatically when she flipped it open and put it to her ear.

"Sam, it's Daniel. Jack didn't show up for the briefing today." He sounded worried.

"Surprise, surprise," she said dryly. "Try his house."

"We did, but he's not answering his cell phone or house phone!" Daniel said. "Sam, what's going on?"

"Just relax, Daniel. I wouldn't answer the phone if I were so hung over I couldn't see straight."

"Hung over? Sam…"

Patiently, Sam told him, "Jack's at his house. He's probably sleeping through the day without even realizing it. Whatever mission you guys have today, you might want to cancel."

"Um, oh, okay…You want to meet us there to help wake him up?"

Sam mentally sent him a "get real" look. "Not really."

"Me neither. But, Sam, he's not going to hurt his pregnant girlfriend. Teal'c and I don't stand a chance of waking him up without getting seriously hurt!" Daniel whined. Sam knew the whining was just to try and get her to come. It wasn't working.

She thought briefly back to the previous night; Jack grabbing her arm, twice, and marching her down to her car, shoving her against it. Only her arms had made rough contact with the car; she'd swerved her torso back. Not one thing was going to touch _her_ unborn baby roughly.

Sam trusted Jack with her life and her love. But a small, forbidden trickle rebelled in her mind, not quite believing Daniel's words to be true. She mentally shoved that trickle of doubt aside and replied, "Daniel, please."

"What was he doing drunk anyway?" Daniel asked, frustration inevitable in his voice. "He knows pre-mission protocol."

Sam hesitated. She really didn't want everyone to know about their relationship arguments, and that little trickle of doubt had a brother, the trickle of guilt. The trickle of guilt was a slight to her pride and her confidence, but it stayed just a trickle. Still, her mind was made in a flash.

"It's my fault, really, Daniel. I," she hesitated, knowing that herself getting drunk with him wasn't a good lie; she and everyone else knew she'd never do that to her baby. "I egged him on," she settled for finally. "He didn't want to. I was rather…aggressive, so to speak…"

"Sam, you – you _didn't_!" Daniel gasped. "Tell me you didn't drink, too!"

That was a slap in her face, too. "Daniel, how could you even _think_ such a thing?" Sam demanded, hurt. "I would never do that! My baby's the most important thing to me and I, I can't _believe_ you'd accuse me of that!"

Sam could hear the immediate regret in her friend's voice when he hastily replied, "You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have thought…"

She heard the guilt in his voice and sighed. "It's not your fault," she said, "I kinda implied it…"

"No, you – well, okay, you didn't make yourself seem like an angel, exactly, but you're right, I know you better than that. I know you " Daniel paused. "I don't know what's really going on, but okay, I'll go wake him up. But if I get hospitalized, I'm sending _you_ the bills!" he added jokingly.

Sam giggled. "Deal," she agreed.

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The next day, Wednesday, Sam did some light cleaning. A bit of dusting with the feather-duster, some quick vacuuming, and she cleaned the bathroom. She couldn't believe Jack had wanted her to let him do it; he wasn't around enough to do it regularly. It needed to be cleaned once a week at _least_.

By the time she was done with that, she decided to just throw the dirty dishes in the sink to soak before she loaded the dishwasher. With that, she plopped down on the sofa, a satisfied weariness tiring her body only slightly. It felt good to be useful again.

Frequently she wondered how they were getting along at the SGC without her. Every once in a while she'd wake up and get ready for work, only to find that her BDUs didn't fit anymore. Sometimes she'd wish she could go in, just to run a few tests…or maybe to study whatever "doohickey" a team brought back…it could get infuriating.

Sam sighed, and turned on the TV. Drat; even the Peanuts weren't on. She turned it off and paced her house, looking for something to do. Her itch for cleaning had been scratched; now her itch for entertainment needed scratching. She flipped through the Entertainment section of the newspaper; nope, nothing good in the theaters. Bowling?

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and she glanced at the clock, bewildered. It was 1200; who'd be coming to her house at 1200?

The doorbell rang again as she walked back into the front hall to open it. On the other side was Jack O'Neill.

Sam froze, torn between inviting him in and going out onto the porch with him. Would he even be there long enough to want to come in?

"Jack," she said hesitantly. He looked pained and slightly worried.

"Sam," he said, his voice croaking. He frowned and repeated her name after a cough when his voice was clear. There was a pause, and when he did speak again, he spoke with the air of someone who was about to have his head ripped off. "Last night…did you…did I… Dream?" he finished pleadingly.

"I wish it were," she said softly. "I did go over, Jack."

Jack lowered his head and rubbed his forehead, an urgent, regret-filled, "_Shit,_" muttered. He looked up and Sam saw the sadness in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed a few times, no words coming out.

She stood aside and pulled the door open further along with her. "Come on in, Jack," she said.

A fleeting moment passed, and Jack cautiously walked in. He turned to face her as she closed the door, and another moment later they were tangled in a ferocious embrace, neither willing to let go of the other for several long minutes after.

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An unspoken agreement and truce went between them. Jack apologized for his coarse treatment of her the previous night several times, guilt blanching across his face at the sight of the bruise on her arm. She hugged him each time and whispered into his ear, telling him she loved him and that it was all right.

"How can you bear to touch me?" he asked her once.

She'd pulled back and smiled. "Because I trust you. Totally and completely, Jack."

Acceptance and understanding bloomed in his eyes, and she knew that he finally let go of the guilt.

Then she ordered him to take an Advil and go to bed before his headache got any worse.

"Join me?" he asked, popping the pill into his mouth.

Sam looked at him, surprised, then smiled. "Okay," she agreed, and minutes later he was spooned against her back, both falling into a gentle afternoon nap.


	26. Chapter 25

You've got a good point, beverlycat.

(Saying any more than that would give something away, sorry –sheepish smile–)

Mornings and Love Part 25

Sam was awakened unbelievingly slowly – she almost began to wonder if she were in a dream still. Then she realized what was waking her: the slight thrashing of someone on the bed. Someone that wasn't her.

Jack.

She forced her eyes open. Somehow during the night they'd shifted to opposite sides of the bed. Jack was way on the right side, jerking and muttering in his nightmare. She knew it could only be a nightmare…

Careful to avoid his inconsistent flailing arms, Sam scooted closer to him and sat up, putting one hand on his shoulder. Jack's head jerked again, an almost fearful grunt escaping his lips. "Jack," she whispered urgently. "_Jack_. It's all right. Jack."

Her attempt to wake him was fruitless; he seemed to be trapped in his own mind. Sam didn't want to think about the many different horrors he could be revisiting. Many of them she and SG-1 had faced right along with him, but others… Who knew what things he'd been forced to do or seen during his black ops days?

Suddenly Jack awoke with a shuddering breath. Sam had to hand it to him; most nightmares she'd had in the past had sent her screaming when she woke. "Jack?" she asked again, cautiously.

Jack looked at her. He was still panting heavily. His gaze left her eyes and trailed down her body to her mound of a belly. "_Shit_," he muttered.

"Jack, are you okay?"

He thrust out from under the covers and walked around the bed and out of the room, ignoring Sam's wide-eyed stares and questions.

Sam scowled determinedly and got up, too, following him all the way to the door. She pulled it open again and leaned against the doorway, watching him walk down the sidewalk.

"You know," she said loudly when he nearly turned the corner. He hesitated, lingering to hear her words. Perhaps he was expecting an, "I love you. Never forget it," or an, "I'm sorry," or, "Please, talk to me?" but it wasn't what he was going to get.

"I don't know which to be more shocked or hurt at first," she continued, "the fact that you'd get drunk and force me away physically," she tapped her already yellow-tinting bruise, "or that you'd run away from me all too soon after that. Am I really such a monster that you'd think I wouldn't care about whatever those nightmares hold – or that I'd shun you or hate you because of it?"

It might've been a low blow, but Sam knew he wouldn't leave her if she expressed guilt or blame for it.

"Sam," he said softly, jogging back up the sidewalk, swiftly and stealthily. He stopped just short of hugging her, eyes once again shooting down at her stomach.

"You don't have to tell me," she whispered. "I just want to be here for you. You're not alone, Jack. I'll always be here for you, so long as I draw breath. Just…let me."

Jack's eyes met hers again and he nodded wordlessly.

Sam took his hand and led him inside. She pulled him down onto the couch with her, and he squirmed slightly, sitting, but moving a little farther away from her. She tilted her head at him, confused.

"Want some coffee?" she asked. He shook his head and rubbed his face with both hands, his hands pausing at his eyes a little longer than she would expect. Was he wiping tears? Discreetly, to keep her from noticing.

"I'll be right back," she said, and felt his eyes on her as she walked into the kitchen. Maybe he didn't want coffee, but they both needed something to keep their hands and mouths busy until one of them was ready to speak. She walked out a few minutes later with two slightly steaming mugs; she handed him one as she sat down beside him again, respecting the boundary he'd wanted to place between them, though she still didn't understand it.

Jack took it with a slight frown, but the frown smoothed from his face. He didn't argue or take it back, but took a sip. His eyes widened and he looked at her with surprise as he swallowed.

"Hot chocolate?" he asked incredulously.

Sam gave him a small smile. "Chocoholic rule number one: chocolate might not make everything better, but it's the best somewhat-comfort food out there. Or drink, in this case," she said, waving her hand between their mugs.

He offered her a withered smile, his eyes not smiling along with his eyes. He seemed to say, "Thanks for trying."

They sat in silence for a long while. Sam kept stealing glances at the clock – _1400, 1403, 1409 _– then at Jack, from the corners of her eyes. Every once in a while he'd take a sip, then a few moments later she would. It was a slightly uncomfortable pattern, but they both rested into it.

After a while, Jack spoke. "I wouldn't blame you if you hate me," he said softly.

Sam looked at him sharply. "Why would you say that?" She sighed inside, but knew that the fairytale ending to that last chapter of their lives could not go on.

"Don't bullshit me, Sam. Ever. What I did was horrible, uncalled for. I could've hurt you way worse…or the baby…"

She frowned. "Look at me," she commanded with the voice of authority. He looked, slowly, as though expecting her to hit him. "Jack," she said firmly, "if I thought there was any chance of you hurting me, or our baby, I would've fought you. And I would've won, too, hands down." He started to argue, but she waved his attempt away. "You're a force to be reckoned with, Jack. You're strong, intelligent, and resourceful; that's just without your firearms. But Jack – you were that drunk."

"I did hurt you, though!" he said dispassionately. "I bruised your arm – threw you against a car!"

Sam didn't smile or laugh, but said slowly, "Jack, I won't lie to you. Usually when a man does that, he'll find himself with a mouthful of earth and my foot on his butt. I'd like to say that Hansen was a prime example, but then again, I didn't handle myself too well with him.

"But never mind that," she continued fiercely. "You of all people know that I've been through tortures, illnesses, and alien incidents that most people wouldn't even imagine. You think a bruise is going to hurt me?"

Jack hesitated. "Then what about when I threw you against the car?" he asked. "I threw you so hard – the impact had to hurt!" Regret etched across his face.

She smiled, amused. "You were drunk, Jack."

"So you keep reminding me," he mumbled, eyes shifting around the room.

"My point is," she said, "you didn't hurt me at all. My arms blocked the fall and the impact. It was a pretty weak attempt."

"So…I didn't really hurt you at all?" he asked, traces of relief creeping in his eyes.

Sam replied, "A little hurt on the inside," she tapped her heart with a finger.

His face went downcast again. "Yeah…" he said softly, either not knowing what to say or not knowing how to say it.

"Jack," Sam asked, "is that what your nightmare was about? Hurting me?"

Jack's eyes once again visited her stomach. "Not just you."

Sam's eyes widened in understanding. "Our baby," she said softly.

"Yeah," he said again, nodding sadly. A moment passed, then he said, "Charlie was there, too. You…you were both staring at me, with the most accusing, hate-filled eyes…And I had to hear that gunshot over and over…" Jack was trembling now.

_Oh my god._ She'd forgotten about Charlie until now – crap! "That was why you were so…" she said, with increasing guilt. She couldn't find the right words to finish.

He reached over and took her hand, threading his fingers in hers and squeezing. "I wasn't able to be there for Sara," he said quietly. "I was away on a mission when she found out she was pregnant. She sent dozens of letters but none ever managed to reach me. They'd told her they could pass it on to me, but they never did. I returned to find her six months pregnant."

Sam put down her mug and reached up to touch his cheek softly, her touch just a whisper on his skin. He looked at her. "Then I was away for another mission a month later. I missed my son's birth. I want… I want so much to not mess this up. I'd been so careful with that damned gun for all those years. He was seven when he… Why didn't I just put the _damned gun away?_"

The pain in his voice was almost unbearable for her. Sam hated seeing Jack in such pain, such misery. Had she caused some of it? She hoped not, but felt she must have.

"You'll always ask yourself that." He looked up, rather surprised. She gave him a watery smile. "You'll always ask, 'What if I'd just…' and, 'Why didn't I just…'. Just like I'll always ask, 'Why hadn't I just stood up to Hansen during our engagement?' however brief it had been. 'Why had I let him walk all over me, beat me physically and emotionally?' We'll always ask these questions. If I'm right, you never go a single day without thinking about him?" He nodded to confirm her suspicions. "That's okay. But you don't have to let it control you."

"I didn't," he said softly. "Up till now. I didn't for a very long time."

Sam knew he'd been suicidal on the very first trip through the Stargate. She also knew he came back a whole different man. To what extent he'd changed, or why, she didn't know.

She squeezed his hand. "I know." Unable to contain herself any longer, she dropped his hand and wove one arm around his shoulder, her other arm weaving across his chest to meet it, and she gave him a sideways hug. A second later he returned it, embracing her like he was afraid to let go.


	27. Chapter 26

Mornings and Love Part 26

"I'll never understand pregnant women," Jack said flatly, staring at Sam's plate. She smacked him lightly on the forearm and went back to her spaghetti and chocolate sauce, topped with spicy hot Cheetos with a side of garlic and tomatoes.

"Mmm…she said approvingly. "I've never actually had spicy hot Cheetos before."

"I've never felt this sick to my stomach before!" Jack said, eyeing her garlic and tomato combination as though it was going to leap up and attack him.

"Jack, that is so not true!" she said, laughing.

"No, really, it is! Ba'al and Iraqi prison hellholes have nothing on the pregnancy cravings of women!" A shadow flashed over his eyes disturbingly, but a moment later it was gone and he gave her a goofy grin.

Deciding that now would not be the time to push, Sam smiled back. "Well, when you guys manage to capture Ba'al, you can put him in the same room with me and I'll scare him into submission with my awesome pregnancy cravings, then!"

Jack laughed and his hand dropped under the table to squeeze her hand, a loving look in his gaze. Sam knew then that she'd said just the right thing, and gladness pulsed through her in time with the love she felt for him.

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"Of course," he said a moment later, "we might not capture him for a very long time. Years even."

She leaned in, listening more closely, curious.

"So that means in order to scare him with _pregnancy_ cravings…" his gaze dropped to her womb then up to her eyes again, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam choked and coughed. "Jack!" she exclaimed, surprised at his suggestion.

Jack suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. "Sorry," he murmured. "Forget I ever said it."

"Jack, that's not the kind of suggestion a woman forgets," she said softly. "I'm… I'm not against having kids…" She hesitated, thinking first of the fact that their status was "boyfriend and girlfriend" and not "husband and wife" then the whole pregnancy process – cravings, nausea, etc… Sam looked back to Jack's eyes, and realized the sadness in them, knowing immediately his next doubt. "And I'm not against having _your_ kids," she amended pointedly, earning herself a look of surprise and respect. "At this point I'm just not sure…"

He squeezed her hand understandingly, and she let her words teeter off.

"Do you have a lot of brothers and sisters?" she suddenly asked curiously, surprised that the question had never come to her before.

"Actually, no. Ma O'Neill tried, of course, but she had several miscarriages. Don't ask me why," he frowned, "I was only a kid at the time; didn't understand and never asked. In all, I have one younger sister and two older brothers." He frowned again, another shadow of remembrance – perhaps regret – flashing over his face. He met her eyes a moment later and offered a small smile. "Which reminds me, I ought to let them know about…us…"

Sam nodded. "How're you going to tell them?" she asked. "Want me to tag…?"

Grinning widely, he said, "Yeah, they'll love you. Especially Ma and Liz. I've got to warn you, though, my Dad 'll give you hell in the beginning," he scowled, and she squeezed his hand again. "But he'll come around," he finished, only somewhat confidently, the question of his brothers hanging in the air.

"And your brothers?" she asked softly.

"Twins. Ma says they took 'terrible twosome' to an extreme. They'll be sure to warn you _all_ about me."

Sam laughed. "That's what brothers are –" She stopped short. "Wait… 'warn'?"

Jack nodded. "Warn," he confirmed.

She paused. "That's okay," she said nonchalantly.

His eyebrows rose. "It is?"

"It is," she repeated. "We've taken out more system lords, replicators, and minor gou'ald wannabes than anyone else in the last century! We can handle them, too," she finished with a smirk. His responding laugh and hug warmed her.

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"…Yeah, Ma? It's me, Ja – uh, Johnny."

Sam snickered, smirking at the glare he shot at her.

"…Yeah, yeah, everything's good. Listen, how about a…a family reunion? Oh, maybe sometime in December?" Sam frowned. He was going to wait three months to tell his family about her and the baby? He shrugged as if to say, "What?" and said into the phone, "I wanted to give everyone enough time to get time off, make flight arrangements, all that…stuff," to answer Sam's unsaid question. "Yeah, the whole family…no, Ma, not Uncle Pap! MA!"

Sam snickered more loudly, and heard a faint, _"Who's there with you, Johnny?"_ from the phone.

"Erm, this is Sam. Listen, I want to bring someone to the reunion. Yes, a woman…I know he's going to throw a fit…sorry Ma…Don't worry, Ma, Sam can handle _any_ snakehead." Jack winked at Sam, and she giggled at the inside joke.

"_Sam? As in Samantha?"_ Sam heard next.

"Yes, Ma. She prefers Sam, though."

"_But Samantha is so pretty! Why would she want to be called such a boyish version? Maybe Sammie?"_

Sam gagged and beckoned for him to hand over the phone. She mouthed, Mrs. O'Neill? to confirm Ma's last name, and he nodded as she put the phone to her ear. "Sam, not Samantha, because a Samantha wouldn't last two seconds before all the flyboys tore her apart in the Air Force, Mrs. O'Neill, ma'am."

"_Oh, you're Samantha? Oh, sorry, Sam,"_ Mrs. O'Neill corrected herself. "_So we finally get to meet the 'Sam' we've heard so much about?"_

Sam glanced at Jack and he watched her quizzically. "Don't believe a word of it, ma'am," she replied, "_Johnny_ here can make any 'egghead' sound like a techno-babblin' monster," she said, stressing Jack's nickname, much to his torment and her delight.

"_You mean you don't want me to believe you're smart, beautiful, strong…"_

Sam blushed. She hadn't known he'd spoken of her before. "He said that?" she asked, a smile creeping on her lips. Jack shrugged as though to say "whatcha gonna do?".

"_Oh, yes! We've been hearing about you for years – at least when he calls,"_ Mrs. O'Neill replied.

"Years?" Sam said aloud. Jack blushed (_Whoo-hoo! Four blushes!_).

"_Years,"_ Mrs. O'Neill echoed firmly.

"Gimme that," Jack said, snatching the phone. Sam smirked and folded her arms over her chest. "Ma, I – no, Ma, I didn't ask her…Ma! No! Listen, I figured you could tell the Terrible Twos and Dad, and I'd call Liz – she what? Can I have the number? Yes, I'll actually call her! …Sorry, Ma… Alright, Ma…_What!_" Jack yelped, eyes wide. "Ma, please!" he groaned exasperatedly.

Sam stared, bewildered. _What was that all about?_ she wondered.


	28. Chapter 27

Special thanks to…

Ilovesg1

Aria-wolfstar

ALIMOO

Skwerels

stargate-princess

And all the other reviewers. These are just a few names I remember off the top of my head who have constantly reviewed from the beginning. Thanks everyone!

Mornings and Love Part 27

"What _was_ I _thinking_!" Jack groaned three months later. "A family reunion? Sam, they'll eat us alive!"

Sam giggled. "Maybe you were thinking that Ma O'Neill would come after her _Johnny_ with a rolled up newspaper or a willow branch if he didn't tell her his girlfriend was pregnant."

"Worse: iron frying pan."

Sam laughed and rubbed his arm. They were on a plane to Minnesota; the reunion was to take place at his cabin. "Neutral territory," he'd whispered to her in explanation when the final arrangements had been made a month or so back; in reality, he was probably only half-joking.

It was to be a family reunion-slash Christmas celebration. There were a lot of firsts: Sam's first time meeting Jack's family, their first Christmas as a couple, and Sam's first time going to Jack's cabin.

"Would you two like anything?" asked a flight attendant as she wheeled a food trolley past them, filled with numerous snack and drink varieties.

Sam shook her head and Jack verbally declined before turning back to Sam. "You look so calm!" he complained. "Not fair. You're supposed to be the one in a nervous wreck, not me!"

She just smiled. "If you say so, flyboy," she said amusedly, digging into her backpack – her carry-on item – and digging out a book.

Jack was immediately suspicious, it seemed. "That's not work, is it?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"No, Jack," Sam sighed. She held up the book for him to see. "It's only a perfectly normal novel. And besides that, what did we talk about in October?" She gave him a pointed look. It wasn't low to remind him not to crowd her.

"That you're a grown woman, capable of kicking…_other_ people's asses as well as cleaning the house, that you're strong and independent – Sam, I know all that," he said.

Sam sighed and smiled, taking his hand and threading her fingers between his. "I know, Jack," she said – it was impossible to stay mad with this man – "I'm just paranoid of my free rein," she ended jokingly.

He grinned. "Naw, I had no idea!" he joked back, leaning over to kiss her.

"The plane will be landing shortly. Please fasten your seat belts."

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A couple of hours later their luggage (a suitcase and duffle each) was piled into the trunk of their rental car, and they were cruising down the back-roads. When they finally got to the cabin, Sam gasped softly. It was beautiful, picturesque.

Jack looked over and grinned. "Knew you'd love it here," he murmured, lightly stroking her forearm. Sam smiled widely at him. "It's got two guest rooms and one master bedroom. Guess where _you'll_ be staying?" He waggled his eyebrows. Sam giggled.

"Ah ah! No giggling, maj – man, I can't even call you 'Major' anymore!" Jack whined jokingly.

"Looks like someone already arrived," Sam commented, looking at two cars already strewn to the side.

"Three 'somebody's," Jack corrected bitterly, taking the keys from the ignition and shoving them in a coat pocket. He pointed at the rusty pickup truck. "That's the truck of the terrible twosome," he muttered, "the junk that it is…and that's probably my sister's car," he waved at the shiny, purple-blue beetle. "I doubt my parents are here yet."

"John?" a distant voice called as a female head poked out of an open door. "John!" A young – maybe early thirties – woman rushed out. Auburn hair streaked behind her and a delicate, feminine face awarded "John" with a broad beam. The young woman yanked the driver-side door open, jumped halfway into the car, and strangled him in a huge hug through his seat belt.

"Ohhh, I missed you!" the young woman squealed girlishly.

"Missed you too, Liz," Jack gasped through the woman's tight embrace.

"Oh my god, when you told me you wanted a family reunion I nearly fainted! I thought you were joking but, well, here we are!" Liz pulled back and beamed at him from further distance. "Your hair's sticking up all over the place again; Ma'll have a fit, you know." Before he could reply, Liz acknowledged Sam for the first time. "Are you _ever_ going to introduce me," she demanded, "to your…" Her eyes fell to Sam's six-month pregnant belly. "_Very_ pregnant…friend?"

"More than friend," Jack said quietly, taking Sam's hand and squeezing it. "A lot more than friends."

Liz seemed to have gone immediately somber. "Forget the hair," she whispered. "Ma'll _flip_!" She hastily added, "A good flip. Dad'll go nuts though."

"Dad went nuts years ago," Jack muttered.

"The twins'll never let you see this down," Liz continued thoughtfully.

"Like I care?" Jack said sarcastically.

"But I think it's great!" Liz said, grinning again, genuinely.

"_So_ glad I have your approval," Jack finished with a scowl. Sam squeezed his hand hard; a slight warning.

"Jack," she said, her tone saying, 'Let's not make enemies. I want your sister on our side. Comprende!'

Jack sighed and nodded. "Well," he said, shooing Liz off him and exiting the car himself, "Liz, meet Sam. Sam, my half-crazy little sister, Liz."

"Hi," Sam said, smiling.

"Hey!" Liz replied jubilantly, tossing her hair back. "So you're the infamous 'Sam' we've all been hearing about – when he actually _calls_." Liz threw her brother a glare, then smiled back at Sam. She reminded Sam eerily of Mrs. O'Neill.

"I guess so," Sam said.

"Well, come on in. Richard and Robert will want to finally meet you, too. Though," Liz hesitated and stole a glance at Jack, who was busy pulling luggage out of the trunk, "you shall be warned: they are every bit as tormenting as Jack makes them out to be."

Sam smiled, trying to look and sound mysterious. "We've handled worse before." Inside, she was shaking slightly. Her mother had never given her advice on how to handle the evil twins of one's lover, either…


	29. Chapter 28

Now we get to meet –dramatic theatrical booming– _the twins!_

Wouldn't want you to think I don't love ya, Skwerels ;-)

Mornings and Love Part 28

"Hey Rob, Rick! – John and Sam are here!" Liz announced as she led the two into Jack's cabin.

Jack lowered the suitcases to the ground inside the door; Sam followed suit with the duffle bags. In the kitchen just a few yards up, she could see a man with a day or so's worth of growth on his chin. She guessed he was maybe fifty or so.

"_Johnny_," he drawled, standing and walking around to greet him.

"Richard," Jack replied steadily.

"Rob's in the shower, but he'll be out soon," Richard told him

"Can't wait," mumbled Jack.

"And you must be Sam," Richard said, smirking at Sam. His eyes instantly traveled to her stomach; she felt a twinge of irritation. Why did that have to be the _first_ thing everyone noticed about her? "And I see my good for nothing brother's gone and done you already. Poor woman."

Sam frowned. "That's none of your business. And for the record, there's nothing poor or pitiful about it."

Richard laughed. Sam looked over to Jack, whose scowl was deepening by the second. "Glad to meet you, too," Richard said. "So how'd you end up with my brother? I thought you had brains. So why'd you go with an idiot like him? And he must be fifteen years older than you, at _least_."

"Ten," she corrected. "This bothers you?"

Jack snorted, and Richard replied, "No. But it'll bother Dad. He'll probably _pay_ you to leave him."

The idea shocked Sam to the core, but she didn't let it show. "Your dad could offer to crown me Queen of England and I'd still refuse," she replied smoothly.

That seemed to shut Richard up. She smiled charmingly and said, "Jack, show me around?"

"Gladly," Jack said, linking his arm with hers, smiling at her boyishly.

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Sam stepped out and gasped. The scenery was amazing; such a dramatic change from the anger in the cabin. Blankets of white snow covered everything; the pond was frozen stiff. Puffs of frozen air floated away from her mouth.

"It's a winter wonderland!" she exclaimed softly.

"Yeah, it is."

Robert, Richard, and Liz were inside, Rob in the shower, and Rick and Liz were in the kitchen talking about something or the other.

Jack hugged her gently from behind. "I love you," he whispered into her ear, kissing her neck.

Sam smiled. "Wow. I should tell your brothers off more often," she joked.

He groaned. "Saaaaaam," he groaned, burying his face in her jacket-bundled shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Can we leave now?"

Sam laughed. "Sorry, Jack," she said. "I haven't even seen your father yet, let alone been interrogated by him."

"You won't like it," he told her grimly.

"Probably," Sam agreed, leaning into him and sighing. "God I wish Mom had been able to give me advice for this moment," she whispered sadly.

"Huh?"

Sam froze. Oops. "I'm sorry, Jack," she apologized. "I'm not exactly being the gracious, courteous, positive girlfriend, am I?"

"Bull, Sam. You haven't had a chance to shine yet. Well, except at the car. Liz _adores_ you already," he said, smirking at a memory.

Sam turned in his arms, though she couldn't be pressed up against him as close as she'd like, she could now return his smirk full-blast. "I seem to recall something about _you_ adoring me already, oh, about seven years ago?" Silently she added, _I wish that pond wasn't frozen. I'm gonna get you back for pushing me through the 'Gate that day – well, _sooner _or later!_ "If I also recall correctly, I became your," she glanced down at her stomach, and she quoted Liz, "_very_ pregnant girlfriend."

Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Yes, you are," he agreed fondly, kissing the tip of her nose.

"So what's the game plan again?" Sam asked.

"Let's see…" Jack said thoughtfully. "One week. We get Ma and Dad later today, keep everyone for the next two days, then on Wednesday we get rid of the twins. Thursday, we get to kick out my dad and politely ask Ma to leave. Friday, we say sorrowful farewells to Liz, and Friday…" Jack wagged his eyebrows. "Saturday is Christmas, so we spend a wonderful Christmas in winter wonderland here."

"Mmm…sounds wonderful," Sam said, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss, something she did very often and thoroughly enjoyed.

"Hey lovebirds! Get in here, Ma 'n Dad are home!" hollered Liz from the door, effectively breaking the kiss and ending the sweet, sweet moment.

Playfully unsure if she liked her lover's sister anymore, Sam giggled at Jack's groan. "Come on, Jack!" she exclaimed determinedly, steering him toward the cabin. "We're off to see the wizard!"


	30. Chapter 29

Mornings and Love, Part 29

As the two entered the cabin, Sam looped her arm with Jack's. He pinched her arm and threw her an irked look, and she giggled all the more, swatting the hand that pinched her. She wasn't going to give him _any_ thoughts of escape.

Standing at the door were two elderly people between two suitcases of luggage. The woman, "Ma O'Neill" had slightly wavy white hair, gentle brown eyes, and a happy smile. She also had the wicked sparkle in her eye that Sam recognized as Jack's. _Huh. Must run in the family._

Sam found out very quickly that Dad O'Neill did not share that sparkle. His eyes were closer to cold, dark black and his mouth seemed permanently frowning. His hair was sticking out at odd ends, however, much like Jack's (well, what little hair he HAD…). Sam didn't like the way his permanent frown deepened into a scowl.

"Hello, Samantha. Oh, sorry! Sam. It's an honor to finally meet you in person!" Mrs. O'Neill exclaimed, stepping toward them in the slow, cautious gaits of age, and hugged her as fiercely as a five year old would. "Oh, sorry," she said, rubbing Sam's swollen belly. "I see you're expecting!"

"Lydia!" snapped Mr. O'Neill.

"Oh, what is it, Ernie?"

"I thought you said 'Sam' was coming," he said, glowering at Sam. "You said nothing about it being a woman."

"Hush, Ernie! I'm sure Sam's a very nice young woman. Ernie, you haven't even been properly introduced yet, don't go making a fuss."

"Making a fuss? That idiot son of yours impregnated a young woman and they're not even married! He probably ruined her life!"

"Far from it, sir," Sam cut in. She let go of Jack and stepped forward. "Sir, Samantha Carter. It's a pleasure, Mr. O'Neill." She held out her hand for him to shake, and he bluntly ignored it.

"Samantha, the best thing you can do for yourself is to walk out this door right now," Mr. O'Neill said, glaring. "Jonathon is nothing but trouble."

Sam ducked her head and gave an irritated huff, her smile still on her face. When she looked up, she said, "Far from it, Mr. O'Neill. Jack…ahm, John, is a wonderful man. I don't think I could find another man I'd rather have as the father of my child if I walked the edge of the galaxy." She looked back at Jack and winked. Even he had to grin at the inside joke. What was left unsaid was, _And we've done that a few times, too._

Jack's father grunted and said, "We'll just put our things in the master bedroom," and picked up the two small suitcases and began to totter over.

"No we won't!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Neill.

"And why not?"

"Saman – Sam is pregnant, Ernie! How far along, dear?" Mrs. O'Neill asked as a second thought.

Sam smiled and dipped her head, rubbing her belly. "Six months," she said somewhat shyly.

"Six months? – Ernie, we are not taking the master bedroom. Sam and Johnny are!"

"What?" Mr. O'Neill said irritably. "He's kicking his own parents out of the most comfortable room in the cabin? Look in the mirror, Lydia, we're _old_!"

"He's not; I am," Mrs. O'Neill said firmly. "Johnny, will you take our suitcases to one of the guest rooms, please? That is, if Lizzie doesn't mind taking the couch," she added questioningly to Liz.

"If it means THIS argument is over, I'll sleep on the porch if I have to," Liz replied.

"Excellent!" Mrs. O'Neill exclaimed. "Come on, Ernie!" With that, she dragged her mumbling husband to a guest bedroom, Jack following with the bags.

Later That Night

Sam closed the door to the master bedroom gently. She was glad that she could finally spend some quiet, alone time with Jack. After meeting his other brother (and Robert wasn't much better), Sam felt like she was on pins and needles the entire day. Every minute was an opportunity for one of the male relatives of Jack's to ask her a question to be used against him. She tried to answer fairly, but also made it bluntly clear that she was Jack's and she wasn't budging.

Jack was sitting on the bed, his head hung, eyes angry. Sam waddled over, sliding onto the bed, and gently lay her hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades comfortingly.

"He's right," Jack said, finally looking up at her. "I did ruin your life."

_Oh, no..._ "Jack, you didn't ruin my life. You made it better."

"If I hadn't seduced you, you wouldn't be pregnant. You'd still be on SG-1, still be in the Air Force. You could've gone higher than I ever will now."

"If you hadn't seduced me, I wouldn't have the chance to have this baby with the man I love!" Sam argued. "Jack, don't try to back out now. I need you – _we_ need you."

He stared at her disbelievingly.

Sam sighed inwardly, and tried a different approach. "Would I have come here and sat through a day with your brothers and dad harassing me to get at you if I wasn't ready to stick by you forever?" She saw the wheels turning in his head and smiled, relieved at the fact he was beginning to understand.

"No…" He looked at her, a mix of admiration and happiness in his eyes. "So…my family's _not_ going to chase you away?"

Sam smirked. "Jack, I can kick Gou'ald _and_ Replicator ass, remember?"

His angry, upset face fell into a smile at last, and he laughed. "Yeah, you can."

"So we're okay?" Sam asked. _Again?_

Jack smiled tenderly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Yeah, the dumb idiot's finally seen reason!" he joked.

"Na-ah!" Sam said. "I see right through that dumb act of yours, flyboy."

"Really? Aw, rats! Now I have to find something else as a cover."

Sam chuckled, then yawned. "Well, mister flyboy, I'm tired. Let's get some shuteye and hope for peace tomorrow."

"I'm all for that," Jack agreed, somewhat grimly. He swung his legs onto the bed and scooted across it, beckoning her to join him. She did so gratefully, and eased into his arms.

As they were falling asleep, Sam heard Jack murmur in a singsong voice, "The sun will come out – tomorrow! It's only – a day away!"

Their weary lull was interrupted as they both fell into fits of whispery laughter.


	31. Chapter 29 point 5

Sam's body awoke her sometime at 0500, ordering her to the nearest bathroom. She sat up to carefully sneak out, only to find that she was trapped between two arms.

Sam blinked, waiting patiently for her sight to improve in the dimness, and smiled, pleased, at her sleeping boyfriend. An arm was slung casually through a cradle between her rolling hill of a belly and her breasts. The other was snaked under her neck, fingers wiggling slightly at empty air.

Samantha Carter had turned into a giant teddy bear. She giggled at the idea, but really, _really_ had to pay a visit to that bathroom. She tugged away, but immediately Jack groaned and tugged her back, even closer than she was before.

She poked him. "Jack?"

He grunted and subconsciously buried his face in her neck.

"Jack."

No response.

"Jack!" she finally yelped, shaking him.

He grunted and opened one wary eye grumpily. "Wha…?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

Sam could just see the "huh?" written on his face. He murmured groggily, "So go."

_Figures,_ she thought, shaking her head with an amused smile. "Let go of me," she whispered.

No response once again; he had dozed off. Impatiently she shook him awake again, and he blinked, staring at her with the cutest, most bewildered expression.

"Let go of me," she repeated.

"Why?" he asked, ready to settle down into sleep again.

_What I would do for a bowl of ice cubes,_ Sam thought, her smile turning into a devilish grin. "I need to use the bathroom!" she said, getting only slightly irked. She didn't want to shove or push his arms off because they pushed and shoved back!

"So go…" he murmured as sleep attempted to claim him.

Sighing, Sam pinched his arm and groaned, "Jack, come on, honey…"

He opened an eye and said, "What?"

"Jack: me, need bathroom. You: need to let me."

He frowned, looking down at his arms, and then at her. Then his eyes widened, a soft "oh!" slipping from his lips. "Sorry!" he whispered, unwrapping his arms from her. She laughed softly and leaned in to brush his lips with her own.

"Not a problem," she said, and proceeded to hurriedly waddle into the adjoining bathroom.

When she returning, Jack was fast asleep again, and she hovered beside the bed, watching him, a silly smile of adoration blooming on her face.

_He really does look cute, even – no, especially at 0512 in the morning!_ she thought, hand covering her mouth as she fought back giggles. With a yawn, she slid back into bed and scooted up close to him. Instinctively, unconsciously, his arms rewrapped her and his steady breathing and heartbeat lulled her back to sleep.


	32. Chapter 30

_Oh, my poor readers! I'm sorry this took so long. Hopefully I haven't lost you._

Mornings and Love Part 30

Sam awoke to an empty bed, snow crystallizing the small window in a picturesque scene. She yawned and sat up, wriggling uncomfortably. This was going to be one of those days; despite the cozy Christmas setting, she didn't like what she was feeling. She wasn't even out of bed yet and she was already feeling achy.

As she tried to get out of bed without irritating her already sore body, she scowled, trying to figure out how she was absolutely fine – she checked the bedside clock – two hours ago and feel like _this_ now. She was halfway through – her legs dangling over the side – when she heard footsteps.

Soon, Liz's head popped around the corner of the doorway and she said, "Morning, Sam! How you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Sam asked, gritting her teeth in the small smile she flashed Liz. Liz nodded. "Like a two ton truck ran over my back a few times, just for kicks."

Liz winced sympathetically. "Eck. Are you hungry? There's also aspirin in the medicine cabinet if that'll help any."

Sam inwardly swore that Jack had the best sister in the entire galaxy. "Thanks," she said, sincerely grateful. She managed to get on her feet with a small grunt, giving up the impossible task of not hurting her back doing it. She made her way to the medicine cabinet and greedily swiped the aspirin, swallowing a couple.

When she walked back into the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, Liz was waiting patiently by the door. "Think you can keep some food down?" the woman asked.

Sam nodded. "Sure. I'm starving." Liz grinned and beckoned for her to follow. Sam followed eagerly. Seated at the kitchen table were Robert and Richard, along with Mrs. O'Neill. Jack was at the stove, frying something, and Liz promptly returned to his side to help.

Sam walked up behind Jack and rubbed his back, a small smile of remembrance on her lips when images of the previous night marched in her mind.

She felt two large hands cover hers. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yourself," she replied, stretching her neck to kiss the skin between his cloth-covered shoulder blades. "Breakfast smells good."

"Just good?" he said, his voice joking and playful. "The very idea is a slight to my many talents!"

"No, just your cooking one. And I still had to watch you to make sure the eggs didn't burn!" Liz exclaimed. Sam laughed, burying her face in Jack's back as much as she could.

"No respect," Jack muttered. Just then, Mr. O'Neill walked into the room.

"My back is aching," he grumbled.

"Oh, Ernie, hush!" ordered Mrs. O'Neill. She patted the seat next to her. "Come and sit."

As Jack's father obeyed his wife, Jack dumped the eggs unceremoniously from the pan to a pot, and placed the pot on the table. His sister followed with the bacon and toast, and Sam grabbed the pitcher of orange juice before either sibling could whisper it away. They both groaned about her not having to do anything, but she merely smiled.

"I think I can handle a pitcher, Jack," she said, placing it on the table.

They sat down, and Mrs. O'Neill insisted that Sam sat next to her. "I want to hear all about you, dear!" she said. The previous night's dinner had been talkative; the siblings all wanted to brag about their lives. Well, the twins did, and then Liz butted in to start a "my horse is bigger than your horse" contest.

"What's to know?" Sam shrugged. "I work under a mountain in deep space radar telemetry."

"Boring!" Jack added.

"Bull!" Mr. O'Neill snorted. Everything fell silent, and all eyes were on him. He returned their stares with an exasperated look. "Come on, that's the most transparent cover story in the world."

Sam exchanged a look with Jack. _Is it in a father's programming to see right through EVERY lie their kid – or kid's girlfriend/boyfriend – tells them?_ she wondered, remembering how her dad never believed _her_ either. She also remembered how _that_ ended up (which wasn't a bad thing), and decided to tread very carefully around Ernie O'Neill.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dad," Jack said coolly.

Ernie O'Neill grunted, glared, then went back to his eggs.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Sam?" Mrs. O'Neill asked brightly, completely ignoring her husband's miserly mood.

"One," Sam answered. "My older brother's name is Mark."

"Does he have a family of his own?" Mrs. O'Neill said curiously.

"He's married and has two kids," she said. "My niece and nephew."

"Oh, how lovely. Is he excited to be an uncle?"

Uh… "I'm sure he will be," Sam said. "It's going to be a surprise." Wasn't that the truth? Mark would have kittens when he found out his sister was pregnant and living with an Air Force colonel!

Mrs. O'Neill didn't miss the double meaning. She nodded slowly with a suspicious look on her face, but smiled a moment later. "I'm sure he will be, too, Sam," she agreed. "Johnny, please pass the eggs."

"Sure, Ma."

"Speaking of marriage," Mr. O'Neill said, "is John going to make an honest woman of you?"

Everything halted. The twins stopped their hushed conversation to hear what was said next. Liz's eyes grew worried, and Mrs. O'Neill's closed; whether in exasperation, worry, or irritation, Sam couldn't tell. She looked to Jack, who was staring at his plate silently – the only one in the room whose eyes weren't on her.

Slowly Sam's twinge of worry intensified. Though mostly she managed to excuse marriage, a tiny part of her always hoped Jack planned on asking. That part had also thought that, maybe, if he was planning on asking, he'd said something to his family, (or, Ma and Liz at the least).

Having learned that his family knew nothing of any secret plans/hopes/desires on Jack's end, Sam felt very much cornered and unprepared.

Swallowing hard, she fought to meet Mr. O'Neill's eye. "We haven't discussed it," she said simply.

Mr. O'Neill grunted and waved his fork in a warning way as he said, "I'm not surprised, Samantha. He didn't propose to Sara until he thought she was getting tired of waiting and wondering. She was pregnant then, too."

Sam's mind waved the information away. It didn't matter to her what he'd done with Sara. What happened before and during Jack's and Sara's marriage was between them. She was more than a little appalled at the attitude of Jack's family (excluding Mrs. O'Neill and Liz, of course).

"I really don't think that's our business, Mr. O'Neill," she said calmly.

"It's somebody's business!"

"Dad," Liz interrupted softly, "Sam's right…"

"Sam doesn't know John!" Mr. O'Neill said angrily. "He'll probably break her heart the same way he broke Sara's. How he's gone through over twenty years in the military without learning how to lock up a gun is –"

"_You don't know wha1 happened!_" roared Jack, a look of deadly anger on his face. He stood and leaned over slightly in a predatorily fashion. "_Don't talk about my son!_"

It was like watching two wolves snarl at each other from across a pond; Jack on one side, a mere inch from attacking, and Mr. O'Neill on one side, furious, but without the will (or ability) to attack.

"Please! Stop!" Mrs. O'Neill exclaimed worriedly.

"No, Ma, let's let them fight it out," smirked Robert.

"Shut up, Rob!" Liz snapped. "Dad, please! Will you leave John alone for five minutes?"

Sam didn't know what to say; she found it hard to believe that she would make an impact on these strangers. While Liz's might, she was still new, and she wasn't family, not yet. How on earth was she going to put an end to this?

Immediately she was reminded of her dad and Mark. How a death could destroy relationships left and right, all beginning with blame. Selmak had pushed her dad to make amends with Mark; how could Mr. O'Neill be convinced to make amends with Jack? It was enough to give a woman a headache.

Color swarmed in Sam's eyes and an involuntary moan escaped her lips. She closed her eyes and bent her neck, rubbing her temples. A moment later, she looked up; Robert and Richard were laughing with each other; Mr. O'Neill and Jack were still glaring at each other and bickering; Mrs. O'Neill was pleading and ordering them to stop.

And Liz was staring intently at Sam. Her gaze wasn't predatory, but full of curiosity and interest, and caring, and a hint of worry. She tilted her head as if to say, "Are you going to let them go on like this, getting you in such a bundle of nerves?"

Sam felt a flare of anger rip through her and she stood as quickly as she could, as fiercely as she could; the effect was dampened by her burgeoning belly, though. And, as loudly and commandingly as she could, she bellowed, "STOP!"

At her voice the world seemed to stop; silence reigned and all eyes were on her. A comical side of her imagined the audible click of a spotlight pinning on her. She held the reins now, and she was going to make sure they listened.

"Whether we're married or not, Jack and I are going to have and raise this baby," she said. "Right, wrong, or different, that's the way it's going to be unless he and I decide otherwise."


	33. Chapter 31

The rest of the evening came to be a blur for Sam. By the time she crawled into Jack's bed, she couldn't quite recall how dinner went from the time she shouted "stop" and now. (She knew she'd be able to if she thought about it, but she really didn't want to.)

It was certain to have been disastrous.

A knock on the door. "Sam?" Jack asked softly, opening the door a crack and peeking through.

"Yeah?" she mumbled, not rolling over to look at him.

"Can I come in?"

Sam snorted a laugh. "Of course," she said a bit sadly.

A moment later she felt the bed dip. "Are you mad at me?"

At hearing this question, Sam rolled over and sighed. "No," she admitted. "I got a little…peeved…back there, but I'm not made at you."

Jack nodded. After a moment, he asked, "Wanna cuddle?"

It was so out of the blue and so sweet. Sam smiled weakly, nodded, and rolled over. She felt his chest press against her back as he molded his form to hers. Gently held in his arms, Sam fell asleep blissful minutes later.

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(A Few Days Later)

"Merry Christmas, Sam," Jack said, smiling down at her.

Sam blinked, eyes adjusting to the sunlight. "Merry Christmas, Jack," she said, sighing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders and pulled herself up for a quick kiss.

"Mmm," he said as she let go, resting on the pillows again. "I love you."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. It wasn't all that unusual to hear those three words from her lover, but there was something about this time that seemed playfully suspicious. She'd expected to hear, "I love mornings like this," or, "I love waking up like this."

"I love you, too," she replied nevertheless.

"Marry me?"

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Sam's jaw dropped almost as suddenly as his impromptu proposal. "Jack?" she squeaked.

Inside, her conscience was shrieking at her: Why wasn't she yelling, "YES!"? Did she WANT him to think she didn't want to marry him? Was she really going to screw up something she'd – secretly – hoped and even longed for for ages?

"I know it's sudden…" Jack paused, and then got up. Rummaging through the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a tiny velvet box and presented it to her, open to show a diamond ring that sparkled in the morning sun. "I wasn't sure what style you'd want, so I got the basic engagement ring…"

Sam barely looked at the ring; she couldn't seem to take her eyes off him. "Jack?" she asked in a quivering voice.

She caught a glimpse of his worry before he hid it. He sat on the edge of the bed in his nonchalant, masking manner. "Yeah?"

"Tell me this is real," she whispered. "Please?"

She half expected his shit-eating smirk, but received a smile, tender smile that stole her breath into the next century. He lay beside her fully on the bed and said, "It's real, Sam. Marry me?"

Only a millisecond's moment of doubt (_Is he asking because of his father's thing about us _not _marrying?_) flashed through her mind before her heart completely and totally dismissed everything. "YES!" she squealed, throwing her arm around him and molding her body to his.

Jack dipped his face into her neck and she felt his smile. He murmured against her flesh, "Thank you, Sam. Thank you so much."

Sam pulled back slightly, and was surprised to see tears in Jack's eyes. He never cried; not from nightmares, not from Gou'ald torture tactics, he didn't even cry the happy kind of tears when he learned about the baby. "I should be thanking you!" she exclaimed. "I – I've been wanting this for a while now. For a long while."

Jack winced slightly, and said, "Me, too, honey. I wasn't sure, though, if it was the right thing or if you wouldn't want to. But the way you handled Dad, the terrible two's, the way you charmed Liz and Ma... I knew it was time. I knew it would work."

"You had doubts we'd work?" Sam asked.

"A bit. I didn't want to propose because of the baby," he said. "I love our baby, of course, I don't mean that! But I always knew that if we married, it would be because of us, not because it was the 'honorable thing' or 'the right thing' to do. None of that. I wanted us to marry for us."

Sam nodded. "I understand." She only half-heard anything he'd said; _she was marrying Jack!_

"Does this mean I get to be an O'Neill?" she asked cheekily.

Jack's full-brown grin shined at her. "Why, yes. Why, you looking forward to being Mrs. Jack O'Neill?"

Sam's eyes narrowed of their own accord. "Mrs. Samantha Carter-O'Neill, please," she said, her smile still firmly in place despite the indignant correction.

Jack's smile didn't falter either.

_And now for the dreaded final words…_

**The End.**

(**A/N:** Just so you all don't go into cardiac arrest, there _will_ be a sequel! I haven't begun to write it, but I believe the title will be "Surviving Love". No other spoilers! – I'm evil like that –evil grin--)


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